The Place Where the Black Stars Hang
by LowDesert
Summary: Clark and Diana travel to Paradise Island so Diana may deliver their baby safely. But will they be truly safe there? And is Paradise Island what it seems? An ancient evil and retribution awaits, threatening to overwhelm Superman and Wonder Woman - and the Justice League and Earth itself, unless our heroes find the means to recognize it and resist in time. Sequel to The Red House.
1. Prologue - The Body On The Shore

**RECAP**: This sequel follows my first JL/Lovecraft Mythos-crossover fic "The Red House." Please read it first! It also follows the events of the first follow-up sequel, "The Hyades Shall Sing." It also features another uniquely Mythos-related crossover, to be gradually revealed (if you can't wait, just PM me and I will spoil it for you), similar to the style of "The Red House." I imagine this fic will be much longer (shorter chapters maybe too, just easier for me to write that way), and will start off very slowly, focusing on the drama and relationships between Diana, Clark, and his new in-law and extended family: Queen Hippolyta and the Amazons. It will not be so much horrorish stuff at the start. The prologue may last for several chapters, before we get to "present day" which is set a couple of weeks after the events of the Red House. Most of the story will be set on Themyscira. Batman will be in it much more too, good news for all you Bats fans! No he will not steal Diana from Clark. Lois Lane will be a major character too, and yes she is a lesbian in this AU. Sorry Clois fans. The title of the story comes from the Lustmord CD of the same name, also related to the crossover. You can hear some tracks on YouTube if you'd like background music with this fic, or with the Red House ;) It fits!

A note on the Amazons: This story follows New 52 a bit, but I have my own AU-y take on the Amazons, which I've always wanted to do! Like some of you (maybe most?) I'm not that wild about the New 52 WW storyline; without giving too much away if you haven't read it yet, they've pretty much flushed the idea of the Amazons as peace ambassadors down the toilet, since they do some really nasty things (to men), and the Olympians also seem pretty dysfunctional and (IMO) very Neil Gaiman-esque. Which is not a bad thing necessarily, but maybe not for WW :/ So there will be no Olympian Gods in this story (_other_ gods though ;), but some aspects of the New 52 Amazons are kept intact (hint: WW #7), just my way of working with what I've got. One major inspiration I'm also using to write the Amazons is Stephen Pressfield's novel _The Last of the Amazons. _Great historical fiction, if you like concept of warrior women, read it! The Amazons are pretty violent there too.

Enjoy! And always, reviews are awesome!

**Prologue – The Body on the Shore**

_Themyscira – The (Not So Distant) Past_

The hot yellow sun blazed radiantly down on the white sand beaches of the great island, providing light and warmth to the many varieties of vegetation and animal life which thrived due to the centuries of isolation from human interference in Nature. As a result, the land and its coasts resembled no less than a vision from the very dawn of time: pure creation, unspoiled and untouched, perhaps as true a vision of Paradise as could be imagined by Earth's great writers and poets. A biologist's dream. A virgin land, minus the sounds and smells of Humanity's most treasured works: the burning of coal and rubber, the exhaust of the internal combustion engine, the deadly heat of nuclear fire.

Yet occasionally things would appear on Themyscira's shores which dispelled the illusion of the purity of wildlife and nature existing in isolation – washed up debris from the distant lands, other items which puzzled or disgusted (or both) the inhabitants of this realm. Broken and discarded machines of strange and unknown design and purpose, faded and waterlogged books filled with mysterious and infuriating words, jagged scraps of wreckage from ships of the sea and even ships of the air. Yet even these were all mere curiosity, unimportant. More rarely, a corpse would wash up, greenish and decayed and partly devoured by the ocean-dwellers: a victim, perhaps of the vagaries of the sea, or of the violence of Man's World. Such proof as presented of the other lands' perfidy or foolishness, or both, were, when discovered, promptly burned and the ashes scattered, albeit without such funerary rites as were afforded the island's more pious inhabitants.

The last body to wash up on Themyscira's shore, however, was different.

Two mounted and fully armored Amazon warriors galloped along the coastline. Both of them wore the livery of the Queen's Guards, crimson plumes flapping from their golden crested helms, their arms secured on the flanks of their painted horses. Their manes were braided, identifying them as property of the Queen's own stables. One of the women pointed, and shouted something to her companion, upon sighting the body that lay pulled out of the surf onto the hot sand, and they both spurred on their mounts. Further down the shore, another Amazon, clad in the sparse animal skins of the hunter/scout, awaited them patiently and emotionlessly, standing barefoot and knee-deep in the water.

The foremost of the horsewomen pulled up and dismounted, and approached the scout.

"Merope!" The Guardswoman demanded loudly. "Is this the body?"

The scout was a slender woman who appeared to have no more than fifteen years, yet her movements and eyes suggested many more than her appearance suggested; the women of this land grew up quickly, particularly those in her profession. Her hair hung in blonde dreadlocks secured in a loose braided cord, and her exposed skin was burnt and tanned by the sun. She spat salt into the sand by her feet, and shrugged.

"Is there a body anywhere else?"

The tall and muscular woman scowled at the impertinent answer, but the other Amazon brushed past her companion and walked up to the body without hesitation, crouching beside it for a moment to examine its wretched state, her handsome features creased deep in thought. Finally, she looked up at Merope, puzzled.

"How can you be sure it is a sister?"

In truth, there was not much body left. All that remained was the trunk, and the stump of a left arm, strands of stinking kelp tangled all round it. There was no head, no clothing remaining. The creatures of the sea had clearly partaken of the decaying flesh. Merope, however, was no stranger to peculiar or unpleasant sights. She gestured towards the corpse's remaining limb. A thin leather cord was wrapped tightly around the upper arm, sunken deeply into the skin. She bent down, drew her long knife from her thigh-sheath, and cut it off. She held it out to the two Guardswomen. They saw it right away, the embossed leather, the familiar handicraft. A typical decoration, sometimes worn as a charm.

"This is Amazonian work," Merope said quietly.

The tall Guardswoman was not yet convinced. "But how can you be _sure_?"

Merope shrugged again, her face and voice impassive, as if she did not care one way or the other whether or not she was believed.

"I know. It is the one I made for my sister, before she departed with the others."

The two Guardswomen exchanged solemn glances. They knew then, for certain who and what this body was. A sister, one who had once gone forth, and - like the others - never returned to Themyscira. Before this, nothing, no news had ever reached their land of what had happened to them.

Until now.

"Queen Hippolyta must be told of this."


	2. Prologue - The Question

**Another short chapter submitted for your approval! If you read WW New 52 you may understand what the Amazons are talking about (no spoilers though).Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated.**

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**Prologue – The Question**

_Themyscira - The (Not So Distant) Past_

Hippolyta, Queen of Themyscira and the Tribes of Amazonia, gazed out of her palace window, which directly faced the harbor of the Isle's capitol. The morning sun's rays reflected brilliantly off the still, peaceful blue waters. She could hear the sounds of the people in the streets below, the sounds she heard every day of every morning when in the palace, women talking and shouting in the agora, in the marketplace, in the courtyards. Many women, gathered to talk, to trade, or train. And these were just the ones here in the capitol. Many, many more Amazons lived in the interior, in the villages and towns and farms of the rolling steppes, along the coasts and over the hills, and in the mountainous regions of Themyscira's northern end. Thousands of them, and she alone was responsible for their lives and their welfare, as their monarch. She had held this duty for millennia, never shirking it for a second.

It was nearing afternoon, and her High Council had been bickering all morning, in fact almost from the very moment since the discovery of the body on the shore. They had met today in the palace to discuss this at length. It was determined beyond doubt that the body was a sister, one Alcippe. She had disappeared, along with nineteen of her sisters, when they had all departed Themyscira, as per the thrice-centennial ritual. Others too, of her age, had gone and returned, their…obligation accomplished, quietly and without trouble, as had been done for centuries. However, Alcippe's band had not returned at the expected time. Weeks, then months had passed, with no word, nothing to provide any clue as to what had happened to them. Discreet enquiries to Man's World, through certain channels, had revealed nothing. Surely, the Amazons had debated among themselves – how could have twenty Amazons vanished without trace? Could they all have been overpowered? Impossible! Yet they knew this was not the first time. Smaller bands had gone out, and also not returned, in the years past. But never in such a great number as this time.

A few ventured the question - the unthinkable - could Alcippe's band have defected? Could it even be possible, however inexplicable? Oh, the raging argument, the fury that even venturing such a thought aloud had caused! Yes...perhaps one or two were known to have had expressed a certain wanderlust, dissatisfaction, even, with the relatively safe and secure life of Paradise Island. But Alcippe's closest sisters vehemently, even violently in one or two instances, refuted the charge. In the end, reason had won out, as it of course would. Man's World ultimately held no appeal for any Amazon. They did not live in total ignorance. Enough proof of Man's violence, foolishness, dishonor, and disrespect for Gaia reached their shores to ensure any thought of life away from Paradise Island to be no less than utter madness.

No, Alcippe and her band had not decided to not return. They had been murdered.

Cyanna, their foremost healer, had made the determination after examining the body, even damaged by the elements as it was. She had discovered, through her arts, that Alcippe's body had been exsanguinated and mauled. The bones in the legs and arms had been broken off, snapped. Not only that gruesome detail was revealed - something had killed Alcippe, and in a very cruel way.

There were _bite marks_ on the body.

Rage and grief was the universal response of the Amazons once Cyanna had spoken her findings. The news spread throughout Themyscira, until even the smallest hamlet knew of what had befallen Alcippe and her sisters. The desire for vengeance was mixed, however, with bafflement and – yes – fear. Fear at what this implied for Amazons who would venture off their island…and fear that the enemy still remained unknown. No ordinary man could have slain twenty Amazons! Who – or what - had attacked their people? And why?

Hippolyta had a good idea.

So did most on her High Council. That's why they were on the High Council, for their insight and reason. As she listened to them argue and debate behind her she considered the fact that, despite the isolation and security of their island, they were still not safe from danger. Perhaps no place that existed was. And retribution was the danger that had the greatest reach of all.

Gorgo slammed her hand on the marble table, rising to her feet in vexation. She was one of the Old Guard, a severe matron and veteran of many battles, even before the founding of Themyscira. Alcippe had been one of her best young pupils: she had personally trained the young woman in fighting, and her death had struck her hard. When she spoke, her voice resounded throughout the chamber.

"We are talking and talking but why do we not speak aloud the truth! We _know_ who has done this to us! We _know_ him for an enemy of Themyscira and our people! Why do we stay still?"

"What do you propose we do, my sister?" Philippus, the Royal Master of Horse, replied calmly. "Go to war?"

Gorgo fixed the dusky warrior with her steely grey eyes. "If needs be," she growled. "If that is what is necessary to prevent the deaths of more of our sisters!"

The other women on the Council stirred. "We are not there yet," Eurydike spoke up, one of the eldest, and always a proponent of peace. "Not until we have exhausted all other avenues. It must be our very last option."

Her companion, Mara, wrapped in her tartan plaid and seated next to her, nodded slowly. "Themyscira is not ready for such a path now."

"Not ready?" Gorgo nearly shouted. "When are Amazons not prepared for war?"

"Our island is not attacked," Eurydike insisted. "Yes, our sisters were killed…"

"Not yet! An attack, any attack, on one Amazon is an attack on all of us," Gorgo's fists were clenched. "Do you think they were targeted at random, for no reason at all? No! It is _because_ they were Amazons, doing what needs be done for the survival of our race!"

"Gorgo is correct," Laodice spoke up. She was respected by all present as their foremost engineer, and a master of the art of fortifications and siegecraft. "That is why they were killed, nay, slaughtered. And not only for that one reason alone…it was a clear message, to all of us."

Silence settled over the room, as the implication of that set in. Hippolyta remained standing apart, still looking out the window, over her city, her land, her people.

Gorgo resumed her seat. "Then…what, my sisters? What shall be our course of action? Should we ignore such a message? Treat it as not worthy of response? Or shall we respond?" There was a challenge in her voice, that all heard.

"You vote for war." Philippus said. It was not a question.

"I vote for _action_. I am ready for it," Gorgo shot back. "As should you be." She squeezed Philippus' hand, to show there was no malice in her words. The black woman nodded. She and Gorgo were comrades of war, they had fought and suffered together, many a time.

"I am ready for whatever our Queen shall decide on this matter," Philippus said.

All eyes in the room then turned to Hippolyta, who had not moved during the entire exchange. Every one of them were her intimate friends, and also, often, her most vociferous critics, if the context called for it. Each of them, Gorgo, Phillppus, Eurydike, Laodice, Cyanna, Mara, Kwaian, Adaeze, themselves were formidable warriors, leaders, and teachers. Even so, at such moments as these, they looked to her for guidance. Her word was law, and would be followed. They would speak their minds, freely, but ultimately they would obey. That was their way.

All this time Hippolyta had given the physical impression that she was not listening, or distracted, set apart. But they all knew she had intently listened to every word spoken, and had considered the import of each of their words. She did not reply for a long moment, merely continued to look out the window, her face composed and thoughtful.

"I will leave Themyscira," Hippolyta finally said. "I will personally parley with the King of Alar."


	3. Prologue - The Crossing

**Prologue – The Crossing**

_Themyscira, The (Not so Distant) Past_

On the morning of the departure of the royal party, the harbor of Themyscira, and the streets leading up to the quay where the trireme waited, was filled with Amazons. News had spread fast of the Queen's decision to leave the Island, and to personally meet with the King of Alar, which lay across the seas, not in Man's World but in the Borderlands, the mysterious lands that lay between Themyscira and the realm of the Gods...or so it was said (but which not all believed). Menalippe, the current Sybil, and the other priestesses had taken the omens and readings, and judged that the time and the mission was propitious. Through Menalippe's ancient and magickal arts, it became known - or so it was gossiped in the agora - that the King of Alar himself had agreed to meet with the Queen of Amazonia at a neutral palace in the Borderlands. It had became the talk of all Themyscira. Such a thing had not been heard of in many years, for the Queen to leave the Island, much less to meet with the Alarian King, of whom many dark things were wildly rumored, and whispered. Chief among the rumors was that it was he who was responsible for the disappearance of Alcippe and her band...and that he had plotted many other evil things against the Amazons, for his own nefarious reason, of which was unknown. It was even whispered that he planned war against them. The Queen's mission was speculated to be one to determine what his true intentions were, and - if possible - to find some peaceful settlement.

Most of the Amazons scoffed at any prospect of peace - no man, whether in the ugly Man's World or elsewhere, truly wanted peace, they all knew this as a matter of course. But Alar was a mystery, and what they knew of it was virtually nonexistent, and what was rumored of it was...disquieting. Therefore the High Council itself had agreed to Queen Hippolyta's bold (some even whispered mad) intent. But they had confidence in their Queen, who had ruled them from the first, and whose judgement had guided them safely. They believed it would continue to be so. Perhaps war or further unpleasantness with Alar could be averted.

Therefore, on that bright early morning, dozens of them gathered to see their Queen off, the air filled with their quiet murmuring among themselves, waiting patiently as the horses were led up the ramp into the trireme at the dock, followed by the on-load of supplies and weapons.

The Guardswoman Selene, a young woman with plaited brown hair, waited on the quayside together with her friend Berenike, who also served in the Queen's Bodyguard. They were close friends, and sworn to be each other's right hand in battle. Berenike was skilled with the double daggers, while Selene preferred the _kopis_. The two of them were also the youngest members of the Bodyguard. Queen Hippolyta had expressly wanted two younger and two senior members to accompany her and General Gorgo on the mission, and they were the junior members chosen. It was a distinct honor, as the both of them were aware. Despite this knowledge, Selene felt a great deal of nervousness, all mixed with excitement at the prospect of an adventure. She wouldn't admit to fear: she had prepared for this day, had cleaned all her weapons, polished her armor and double and triple-checked her gear, all for this very moment. Berenike, she knew, felt exactly the same.

Yet as Selene looked around the crowd, she saw that the mood was quite different from what she herself felt. Many of her sisters looked somber, even grim, as if they were there to witness a funeral rite. In fact, Alcippe's funeral rite had been held the week before, and the mourning atmosphere was almost the same as today. Some had even brought their babes, evidently hoping to provide them a view of the Queen before she left the island, as if they expected to never see her again.

Selene frowned. Did they assume they were not going to return? Didn't they have any confidence in their warrior Queen, and in the Bodyguards' ability to protect her? She felt almost insulted by their solemnity. Every one of the Bodyguard would gladly fight to the death for their Queen, whether on Themyscira or off, that was why they were chosen for the Bodyguard. She didn't know anything of this Alar or their King (no one, as far as she knew, had ever even seen an Alarian) but perhaps he was a coward, as she was taught men were anyway. All they needs do was shake a spear in his face, and he would back down.

As if reading her thoughts, Berenike spoke up beside her. "It's not every day that the Queen leaves Themyscira. You should know that any journey away from the island is dangerous. What's really out there, eh?" She elbowed Selene to tease her. "Men? Monsters? Maybe both? Are you ready?"

Selene looked at her friend, irritated. She wanted to offer a retort, but because she knew her friend was probably right. She'd only just turned seventeen, and was recently promoted into the Bodyguard, but a year after her older friend Berenike, who was nearly nineteen.

"But, isn't this is just a diplomatic mission?" She waved her hand at the crowd "What is all this fuss?"

Berenike snorted, tossing her long blonde tresses. "You are quite sheltered, really, Selene! You'd better just be prepared for anything, knowing the Queen. Anything could happen, even on a 'diplomatic mission.' Besides, we are going to the Borderlands," Berenike's expression suddenly turned uneasy. "I've heard we are going to the very edge of Alar. There are...many strange things that live there, or so I've heard anyway."

Selene, needless to say, had never been away from Themyscira and knew very little of the worlds beyond it (or had any interest, really). Who would really want to live off Themyscira? She wanted to ask what exactly such 'strange things' were, when an expectant hush descended upon the harbor. The two senior Guardswomen of the royal party, Amynta and Herodias, both tall and strongly built women with their hair dressed in braids denoting their rank, cleared a path down the walkway to the ramp and the ship. Then General Gorgo appeared, her graying blonde hair bound tightly atop her head under its felt blue headwrap, her crested helmet of rank tucked under her arm, escorting Queen Hippolyta herself. The Amazons bowed in obeisance as she passed them, silently. The Queen was clad in her armor, a rough traveling cloak wrapped over her, her black hair freely flowing. She wore her tiara, and carried the _pelekus_, the great double-bladed axe of Amazonia.

Seeing that symbol of State, which only the Queen was allowed and able to wield, outside of the Royal Chambers definitively drove home to Selene the reality of the mission, and she felt the first faint chill of apprehension. But overpowering even that was her pride at seeing the Queen, looking calm and regal, unafraid, as if she were only going for a gentle cruise in the bay. Hippolyta paused at the bottom of the ramp and turned around to face the audience of Amazons. Her face was composed, her manner unwavering.

"Sisters!" Her voice rang out over the silent harbor, strong and loud. "Today I depart Themyscira, I shall deal with the evil that has befallen our people. I swear to all of you, now, I shall not fail in my mission. I shall not fail you. No more of our sisters will die at the will of dark machinations. By the Goddess, I swear this now, or I shall never return to this Island!"

"May you live forever, our Queen!" A voice in the throng rang out, and with that all Amazons present echoed their acclamation for her, until the harbor echoed with the noise. Selene and Berenike and the other Guardswomen joined in the acclamation. For a minute, the air rang with their voices, a defiant and thunderous sound, in the Amazonian paean to victory.

The roars of the Amazons died down, as they saw the familiar General Philippus approach the Queen. She was carrying a small bundle wrapped in a soft pelt in her arms. A hush descended over the crowds as she walked up to Hippolyta. From where she stood, Selene saw the Queen's stern face soften and, though only for a moment, a shadow of sadness pass over her beautiful features, as she looked down at her infant daughter.

Philippus held the bundle out to the Queen and spoke the ritual words. "Look upon your mother's face, daughter, as she goes forth to battle."

Hippolyta lifted her child, less than a year old, and held her up so that the chubby dark-haired baby was eye-level with hers. "Diana," she said softly. "May you live forever, my little moon and stars."

A deep sigh passed through those women closest to the dock who heard her words, and every Amazon there was moved at the sight of the Queen holding their princess, and bestowed a kiss on the child's fair cheek. The child gurgled happily. Not a few felt tears in their eyes. The Queen held the baby close to her for a moment, then reluctantly handed her back to Philippus.

"The High Council will govern Themyscira until I return. Should I not, I proclaim General Philippus as Regent, until the Princess Diana comes of age."

Queen Hippolyta turned and boarded the trireme, followed by General Gorgo, and the four Guardswomen. The sailors aboard the ship loosened the thick mooring ropes, and then manned the oars. The trireme master shouted out her directions, and slowly the ship moved away from the dock, and pulled out into the bay, sailing past the rocks that lined the first barrier, and then out to open sea. General Philippus and the Amazons stood there, watching silently, until the ship's sails dwindled to only a speck on the horizon, and then disappeared altogether.

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**Well, the chapters are getting longer (sort of)! Hippolyta is out on a mission...but what will happen on the other end? Stay tuned dear reader...and review once again!**


	4. Prologue - The Borderlands

**Prologue – The Borderlands**

_Themyscira, The (Not So Distant) Past_

"It is a three-day's journey by sea, then perhaps several further days' journey inland once we reach the Borderlands."

General Gorgo was briefing the Bodyguard, once the royal party were all settled on the trireme's belowdecks. The Amazon sailors strained at their oars, and manned the wheel and sails. The seas were calm, and they did not expect bad weather.

Even so, Selene was dreadfully seasick. She doggedly strove to not puke while Gorgo spoke, although she knew Berenike would rib her about it later. All six of them sat together amidst the baggage containing their armor and weapons and foodstuffs. Queen Hippolyta sat with them. Whenever on maneuvers with her Bodyguard, she never set herself apart from them despite her rank, but lived as roughly as they did and shared their hardships, just as a true leader ought (Selene supposed that in Man's World the opposite was probably the norm). Hippolyta spread out her woolen cloak and made herself comfortable, propping her back against a big sack of grain while Gorgo continued with her lecture.

"The Borderlands are a desolate wasteland, an empty place of few living things, populated mostly by scrub and bush and rock. As food and water will likely be difficult to come by, we shall take with us as much as we can carry. Weapons shall be carried in readiness at all times, and I expect they shall be maintained."

"What dangers do you expect?" Herodias asked. A senior member of the Bodyguard, she was an expert in many weapons, but her favorite was the double-edged _xiphos_ sword, which she was already sharpening. Her nut-brown hair hung in two braids down to her waist. A livid scar extended down along her shoulder to her chest, an old memento of a duel with another Guardswoman, and a reminder to others that she was a woman who did not tolerate fools. "Who lives there?"

"Dangers there are, yet in this region they may be few, since we are not trespassing on any land claimed by Men. We will be passing through no settlements. One reason they are called the Borderlands. There is nothing of worth there. But in this desert, there live things that are dangerous, like the harpies on our Isle. We must be prepared always."

Amynta, the other senior Guardswoman, was Herodias' close companion (a word that held many meanings in the Themysciran dialect) and one of Gorgo's former students. Therefore she was an expert with the spear and javelin, and while all the Guardswomen (and all Amazons) were trained in the longbow, she was the best shot of the party, even better than the Queen herself. Like the Getai Amazons of the northern end of the Isle, she greased her short hair until it stood up in spikes. She seemed surprised at Gorgo's evident knowledge.

"You have been there before, my lady?"

Gorgo nodded solemnly. "Aye, I and the Queen, we have. It was years ago, on a similar venture. But neither of us truly know what exists in these lands, or of what lives there. So is best to be prepared, as always, however," she leaned forward to emphasize her point. "There are worse things than harpies that live in the Borderlands...and beyond."

The Guardswomen exchanged curious glances.

"As soon as we make landfall, we will depart inland for our rendezvous with the Alarians. Calla and her sailors will make camp on the shore until we return."

Selene would have really liked to hear the story of that long-ago venture, but then Hippolyta herself spoke up.

"Let us take food and get some rest. We face a long journey ahead of us."

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Fortunately, Selene's seasickness had subsided somewhat by the next day, and for the rest of the sea voyage there was no more problem, other than Berenike's expected ribbing. The sea voyage itself was uneventful, and even pleasant. The seas were calm, and all the women took their turn at the oars (even the Queen), or otherwise relaxed and enjoyed basking in the sun. Wrestling matches were held, of which Selene won two, and all the Amazons enjoyed with much catcalls and cheers. The winds also were in their favor. Selene enjoyed it immensely, and imagined this was how it must have been in the old days, when the Amazons still lived honorably in Man's World and before Men had destroyed their environment. Calla, the trireme-master, checked her charts, and at night the stars, and declared that they would reach their destination on time.

It was only during night before the expected landfall, when the sun had sunk below the far watery horizon, that all the Amazons began to feel the gravity of their mission, the reason why they had ventured so far from Themyscira in the first place, and they contemplated the unknowns that they would face the next day. Without orders being given, the Guardswomen set about cleaning and sharpening their weapons and armor, and repairing their gear. It was the junior Guardswomen's responsibility to take care of the Queen's own gear, and this they did in addition to their own. Usually, the Queen would speak and chat with her women, but tonight she was quiet, silently engaged in contemplation, gazing on nothing and deep in thought. They could not tell what thoughts she was thinking, if she was considering the journey yet ahead or if her mind's eye was focused on her daughter at home. Selene and Berenike did not dare to break her silence. It was only when their tasks were done, and they were catching some much-needed sleep in their hammocks, that Selene whispered to her friend.

"What do you think awaits us out there?"

Berenike lay still, eyes closed.

"Berenike!"

"What?"

"What do you think we shall see?"

"The Alarian King and his men, what else do you suppose?" Berenike's tone was cranky, but Selene could tell that her old friend was using that tone to mask her own nervousness.

"What do you think they will look like? I mean...this is the first time we shall see..." Selene could hardly bring herself to say it.

Berenike's eyes opened, and she looked at Selene. "Are you scared?"

"No! I mean...do you think it is true...what they say of the King of Alar?"

"You know I don't listen to the idle gossip of the marketplace!"

"You don't know what fun you're missing. Some of the elder women say..." Selene hesitated. "That...he is a necromancer."

"What nonsense. He's just a man."

"And there are only four of us. You and I, and Herodias and Amynta. Men are deceitful, what if they attack?"

"You are forgetting General Gorgo and the Queen," Berenike scoffed and stared up at the wooden ceiling of the ship's hull. "Gorgo herself can take down twenty men, barehanded. Besides, they are coming under a flag of truce, just as we are."

"But-" Selene began, and then bit her tongue, feeling as if she was thinking something improper. The old stories, that all the Amazons knew by heart, which was embedded in their very history and existence, all centered on betrayal. She looked down at her wrists, bound in the black metal bracelets all Amazons wore as a reminder of past defeat and slavery, and as a vow to never endure such a thing again. She was devoted to the Queen, and so she could not bring herself to say aloud, _What if men betray their truce again? What if we are walking into a trap?_

As if reading her thoughts again, Berenike said, "Go to sleep, sister. The Queen knows what she is doing."

Selene rolled over in her hammock, and tried to do so. But sleep did not come for her for awhile.

* * *

Land was sighted as soon as the dawn broke.

All the Amazons came above deck and paused a moment to look at the foreign land that was not their Paradise Island. All they could see was an empty stretch of beach and sand, and a rocky shore stretching inland amidst bronzed hills and rocks. They saw no sign of life. Calla bellowed her orders, and eventually the ship was pulled up onto the beach. The horses were led off, slowly, allowing them to get used to the unfamiliar smells.

They wasted no time: camp was made on the shore. The horses were fed and watered, then saddled, and the royal party prepared themselves for travel. Rations and waterbags were loaded onto an extra horse. The Guardswomen would carry their long spears, each with three javelins each tied onto the sides of their mounts, their personal weapons of choice strapped to their sides or backs. Queen Hippolyta carried her _pelekus_ on her back, strapped in such a way that she could draw it immediately. The Queen's skill with the formidable double-bladed battle axe was legendary among the Amazons. Selene wondered if she would get a chance to see it in action.

Gorgo and Hippolyta conferred with each other. The latter had unrolled a scroll and was looking at it. "According to Menalippe, the King of Alar will await us east of here, at an oasis which will take us several days inland, through rough terrain, a canyon by the looks of it."

Gorgo's eyes narrowed. "I don't like it. There are too many places where we can be ambushed."

Hippolyta shrugged. "It will not avail him to strike us before he talks to us. No, if we are attacked, it shall be by the foul things that dwell in the interior."

Calla and her sailors gathered together as the royal party mounted up. "A safe journey, Queen," she said, and her sailors nodded and offered their own blessings to all of them. "We wait here until your return."

Gorgo nodded, "Post lookouts."

"If we shall not return within fourteen days," Queen Hippolyta looked at Calla. "Take the trireme back to Themyscira. Hold our funeral rites."

Selene felt the first chill of fear, then, but forcibly pushed it away. She didn't dare to look at her companions.

Calla nodded gravely. "It shall be done. But may it not be so!"

Without another word, Hippolyta wheeled her horse around, and rode off due east. Gorgo and the Guardswomen followed her. The remaining Amazons stood on the shore, and watched silently until they were out of sight.

* * *

"It is so quiet," Selene murmured.

The journey inland so far had been uneventful, just like the sea voyage, but somehow rather than being relaxing, the effect was unnerving. This place was not like Themyscira. For mile after mile, all they saw was rock and dirt and poor tangled excuses for vegetation, as they followed a barely visible trail through the desert, which as their map predicted, led them down into a canyon. A few scrawny lizards crossed their path, insects buzzed about them, but they saw no other animals. The smells were different too, and it was hot. The Amazons stripped down to their fighting girdles of leather and metal. They maintained noise discipline, each listening for unusual sounds that might signal attack. Each night they would make camp at some place judged by either the Queen or General Gorgo to have defensive qualities, in case they were attacked by wild beasts or men, from the high canyon walls, or unknown caves along the route. A watch was maintained, which was the responsibility of the Bodyguard alone, as the Queen and General Gorgo had to remain fresh of mind in case of emergency. But nothing had appeared that seemed threatening, not even wild animals, so a fire was lit each night, and their rations and water shared, although they were careful to conserve what they had. Unlike their evenings aboard the ship, they were mostly silent, conserving their strength.

Now on the third day, of their travel, the tedium of the journey was beginning to outweigh both the novelty and the strangeness, for Selene at least. Berenike rode beside her. Amynta and Herodias had position in the rear, Gorgo and Queen Hippolyta ahead of them. They could tell the trail was leading them upward, out of the canyon. They were nearing their destination.

"What do you expect to hear?" Gorgo turned her head and Selene blushed, realizing that she'd been overheard.

"I-I don't know, my lady...birds, animals...I've rarely heard such quiet." Selene braced herself for a reprimand from the formidable Amazon but to her surprise she dropped back, to talk to her. Perhaps she was tired of the quiet too.

"It is because the Borderlands are unfinished by the Gods," Gorgo remarked thoughtfully. "That is not a bad thing. They stand between Themyscira and Man's World, and the _other_ lands, and the seas protect us also."

Other lands? "My lady...you said you were here before?"

Gorgo nodded, smiling in her grim sort of way. "Aye, and I know what you wish to ask. Have I seen the King of Alar?

Selene nodded. "Is it...is it true of what they say?"

"And what do they say, child? I do not have time to go to the marketplace as often as I'd like to."

Selene was abashed. "Well...that he is a black magician, a great warrior king..."

Gorgo waved her hand, dismissing her speculation. "Oh, he's much worse than that!"

Selene was startled. "He is?"

"Yes, much worse," Gorgo fixed her with a sardonic look. "He is a politician."

"Look there!" Berenike suddenly pointed.

They pulled up their horses as they all saw it. The smoke of a fire, in the distance.

"Is it their camp?" Amynta shouted.

"It is not big enough," Gorgo pointed out. "Most likely a small, single fire. Perhaps their outpost. Maybe an hour's ride from here, out of the canyon."

Hippolyta dismounted. "We shall prepare ourselves now," she ordered.

The Amazons followed suit; their preparations included putting on their full armor, and readying themselves for battle if necessary. Hippolyta was attended by Gorgo personally, as the senior warrior present. She dressed her hair, weaving ropes of gold links through her dark tresses, and strapped on Hippolyta's armor, her corselet and greaves and helmet. The Amazons attended to each other, ensuring each was well-prepared for battle and that her appearance was suitable for facing glorious death. Then they remounted.

Hippolyta turned and looked at her Amazons. Perhaps for the first time during this entire voyage she looked emotional, and that emotion was pride and joy. "Gorgo," she said. "Herodias, Amynta, Selene, Berenike...do you have faith?"

This was formula, but all understood it. "We do, our Queen!" Amynta's voice rang out, as if in defiance to a challenger.

"Do you love me? And Amazonia?"

All the Amazons roared out their affirmative, their hands shaking the shafts of their spears, their eyes flashing.

"Then ride with me!"

Hippolyta wheeled her mount and galloped out of the canyon, her Amazons close behind. They rode until the tiny black column of smoke grew closer and closer. They rode until they realized that the smoke was coming from beyond a ridge, over which they could not see. Whatever was below it was the signalman. Hippolyta raised her arm as they party slowed to a trot and they reined up their horses.

Gorgo gestured with her spear. "Beyond there! Go, the Bodyguard!"

The Guardswomen rode up the crest and thundered down the hill and surrounded the man they saw there. He was squatting down on his haunches by the remains of the fire he had apparently built for the signal. He seemed utterly unconcerned that the Amazon warriors all were leveling their spears, with their eight-inch steel tips, at him.

Selene's heart was pounding wildly in her chest, and she hoped no one could see how her leveled spear was trembling ever so slightly. By Hera and Athena, she would not show fear or wavering now!

"You there!" Amynta bellowed. "Get up!"

The man slowly stood up, his arms raised just above shoulder level, one hand holding a white kerchief, showing that he held no weapons. Selene and Berenike stared unabashedly at the first Man they ever saw in their lives, astounded despite themselves. Queen Hippolyta and General Gorgo rode down the slope as the Guardswomen surrounded the man, ready to run him through at the first wrong move.

"Turn around slowly!"

The stranger complied silently, without challenge. This itself was unexpected. The Bodyguard were surprised to see that he was a short man, with stringy collar-length black hair, a narrow and beardless white face, and strangely pouting lips and watery, bulging eyes. His eyes were the most distinctive thing about him, Selene thought. She was repulsed, and fascinated, at how they seemed to protrude out from the rest of his face, and as she stared at him, felt disturbed by something else. After a few minutes, it was the realization that he hardly seemd to blink. His dress was similarly odd: he wore long trousers, and boots, and a long-sleeved shirt of some thick material, as if he wanted no one to see his body other than his face or his hands. He looked nothing like the pictures of male warriors Selene had seen in the history scrolls housed in the library.

The man stared at all the Amazons calmly. He looked from face to face, as if wondering who was in charge. Finally his protruding eyes settled on Hippolyta. He made the barest tip of his head towards the Amazon Queen.

"I am Yhtill," the man said, and his voice was also not what Selene expected. It was flat and uninflected; for some reason she thought all male voices would sound rather rough and stupid. "I will guide you to the King."

Hippolyta nodded. "Then guide us, little man."

Without another word, the man turned and moved away at a fast jog.

Selene and Berenike exchanged bewildered glances at each other, and also with Amynta and Herodias. They all seemed to realize then that none of this was occurring per what they'd expected. Only Gorgo and Hippolyta seemed unsurprised and unfazed by this strange little specimen of a man.

The royal party followed the strange guide, as he seemed to find an invisible path through the rocky dried-up riverbed that they found themselves in, and up the next hill. The Guardswomen watched him warily, half-expecting an attack to come any second, but none did. Then they heard the sound of running water beyond it. The short man clambered up the hill, looked down, and gestured with his hand for the Amazons to follow him. He didn't seem to be out of breath, or otherwise show any other emotion. He pointed down below him, at what was on the opposite side of the hill.

"The King of Alar awaits you," he said.

* * *

**(The King is approaching...but which one? Keep reading please...and your reviews are like canned oxygen ;)**


	5. Prologue - The King of Alar

**Prologue – The King of Alar**

_The Borderlands (The Not So Distant) Past_

The Amazon royal party rode up to the top of the hill where their guide had led them. The strange man was already making his way down the opposite slope, but the warrior women paused a moment to take in the breathtaking sight that greeted them, still some ways off. They had finally arrived at the desert oasis that was their meeting site.

The oasis was a remarkable contrast to the barren bronzed land they had just traveled through. Verdant green palms and lush groves lined stretches of ground along clear ponds of water which reflected the cloudless blue sky, and for the first time they saw birds alighting in the water and on the branches of the trees. In the midst of this lush oasis were two massive circular tents of the deepest ebony color. Emblazoned on their roofs in gold, was the design of a stylized five-pointed star with a curious symbol in its center, the same pattern repeated at intervals around their sides. The larger of the two tents was big enough to hold dozens of people within. However, they could see no one other than their guide, who was making his methodical way towards the encampment. He didn't look back to see if the Amazons were following him.

The Bodyguard looked at each other, wary and uncertain. They had expected the Alarian party to be no larger than theirs, but the size of those tents suggested that a sizeable force could be concealed down there, even though they saw no one visible, not even horse corrals.

Queen Hippolyta looked down at the encampment for a moment, her expression ambiguous. General Gorgo glanced at her, her face impassive. "Your orders, my Queen?"

"We ride on."

Hippolyta clicked her tongue and urged her horse onward. Gorgo gestured for the Bodyguard to follow, and the rest of the party trotted after them, the Bodyguard unconsciously fingering their weapons.

Selene rode closely beside Berenike as they rode behind the senior Guardswomen. Glancing at her friend, she saw that she looked uneasy and uncertain for the first time.

"You still think we are not riding into an ambush?" Selene muttered under her breath.

"Even if we are," Berenike whispered back. "Our duty is to protect the Queen."

Selene uttered a silent prayer to Gaia. "I don't understand…why does this Alarian King hate us? What have we done to him?"

"Isn't it enough that he is a man and we are the Free Women?" Berenike hissed, and said nothing more, as if that was all to be said.

Selene wondered. If he hated the Amazons, then why would he not just attack Themyscira full on? Why this pretense of diplomacy?

Unless he wanted the Queen.

Selene took a deep breath, hoping her thoughts were just those of a green warrior, but just then Gorgo turned around in her saddle and barked out to them, "Line formation! Spread out behind us!"

The Amazons lined up horizontally behind Gorgo and the Queen, so that they now were two forward and four behind. They rode down into the oasis, the black tents loomed closer and closer. The guide had gone far ahead of them and they no longer saw him; it was as if he had been swallowed up by the greenery. They heard nothing except the random call of a bird, and the trickling of water bubbling up from underground springs. The tenseness of the Amazons was palpable and only the absolute calmness of the Queen steadied them, as if she radiated a protective shield over all of them.

Finally they approached the main tent, from which a canopied overhang stretched outwards, huge carpets of green and gold were laid down all around it upon the soft sand, creating a comfortable and luxurious surface. Tables were set up and prepared with iced fruit and mysterious silver containers set upon them. As soon as they rode in view of this display, it was then the Amazons saw the first appearance of the Alarians: two guards who stood on either side of the opening slit in the tent, and the Amazons halted, expectant.

The Bodyguard stared at them, but the guards made no movement, nor gave any indication that they saw them as either friend or foe. These guards were hooded and claoked in black, the same color as the tents, making them almost invisible against it. Their arms and legs were hidden in the folds of their robes, so they couldn't see what arms they carried or if they wore armor. Even their faces were not visible, but concealed under the hood of their robes, but Selene thought she caught a glimpse of a glittering eye; even the rest of the man's face was concealed. Something about their dark appearance made her uneasy. The Amazons' horses started whinnying and snorting and all of them clung to their reins with their free hands. The horses had caught their smell, and they didn't like it. But the two guards continued to stand as still as statues. Selene tightened her grip on her spear shaft. She didn't like the look of them, or the appearance of those ominous black tents. There was also something about the way the guards were enrobed made the proportions of their bodies look...unbalanced.

Somehow…there was something wrong with them, and despite the desert heat Selene felt chilled all over. Abruptly, she knew that this could not be natural...

However, as soon as the Amazons approached, the tent flaps parted and even Selene could not have expected what happened next. It was the second man she had ever seen, but this man was quite a different sort from their guide. He was immensely fat, for one thing, and his bulk was covered with a voluminous and billowy embroidered robe of blue and green, shot through with platinum-and-gold thread, which he wore wrapped around him as if it were a drapery. His pudgy beardless cheeks were painted in rouge, his eyes lined with kohl, and he dabbled at his sweaty bald head repeatedly with a silken handkerchief. He walked (waddled rather, Serene thought uncharitably) over to the mounted Amazons. The Bodyguard stared in bemusement as this strange figure who then proceeded to address them in a loud and rather pompous voice.

"Ah yes...you must be the delegation from Themyscira. Now, which one of you is the Queen?" Just then he noticed (though how he hadn't before was astonishing to Selene) Hippolyta's tiara. "Oh, yes yes, of course, a thousand thousand pardons, your Majesty," The fat man made an elaborate genuflection before her, surprisingly graceful despite his weight. "You are welcome here in the King's Camp. I am Hawberk, His Majesty's Royal Secretary and Keeper of the Books. Anything you desire, Majesty, I am at your service."

The fat man straightened, and dabbed at his forehead again with his kerchief, and for the first time Selene saw that it was not only because of the heat, it was because of nervousness too. This man was frightened of them! He ill-concealed it too.

Queen Hippolyta looked down at him, unmoved. "Where is your King?"

Hawberk stammered. "Ah…he is…he and the Vizier are presently out at the moment. The King expressed a desire to see a monument not far from here. The King is quite fond of antiquities, yes, quite fond indeed," Another nervous dab. "But they are expected back quite soon. Yes quite soon indeed. Please do not feel at an inconvenience," He shot an apprehensive look at Gorgo, who looked as if she would like nothing more than to run him through with her spear. "Ah...your Majesty, would you not care for you and…ah, your…your ladies to have some comfort? Might I serve you some refreshments?"

He gestured towards the tent, where the black-robed and hooded guards still stood motionless. "All the…ah…conveniences you might desire are within..."

"My warriors and I will await the King without," Queen Hippolyta dismounted, and the other Amazons immediately followed. "All we desire is that our horses may have shade and water."

"Immediately, your Majesty, ah, immediately," He turned and impatiently gestured at one of the black guards to see to the horses, but Gorgo interrupted. She motioned to Herodias to take the horses in charge.

"We shall see to it ourselves!" Clearly she did not trust this Royal Secretary.

Herodias led the horses to a nearby watering hole. Selene realized that she was very relieved that Hippolyta had declined the man's invitation to enter the tent. She was already beginning to think it an evil place, and those guards were surely evil too. She could feel their eyes on them, watching the Amazons intently, perhaps waiting for an opening to attack. She watched the Royal Secretary surreptitiously as he wrung his hands in consternation; no doubt, he was unused to the sight of such strong women where he lived!

Herodias tethered the horses nearby where they would always have ready access to the spring water, and rejoined the Amazons, who stood closely together. Gorgo glared at Hawberk still, who remained close to the tent and the guards underneath the canopy, unwilling to step out into the sun, as if he was afraid the Amazons might assault him.

"Toad," Gorgo sneered. "Foul toad! To be greeted by such a one as this! The Alarian King offers us insult!"

Hippolyta stood with her arms folded, patiently. The sunlight glinted off the gold circlets in her raven-dark hair, and her purple cloak was draped loosely over her shoulders. She was a dazzlingly beautiful woman, her body slender, her muscles toned and strong; even though she was nearly three thousand years old she appeared no older than a mature woman in her late thirties, at most. If she felt insulted, she did not show it. Her appearance, as always, was dignified and calm, but Selene knew that the Queen could be roused to a frightening temper when provoked, although she had never witnessed it herself. She had once heard that, after Hippolyta had brought the infant Diana back to the city, she had overheard someone in the crowd remark that such an unnatural child should be exposed on the mountainside. Without a word she handed the infant to one of her trusted Bodyguards and set about fighting that Amazon then and there, beating her so unmercifully that the woman had spent over a month in the House of Healing. No more such remarks were made, at least within the Queen's hearing.

"He does not insult, this King," Hippolyta said quietly. "He acts. This I know."

Amynta stared at the imposing tent. "It is so strange! Are all the Alarians like that man? Like the guide? Where in Hades did he get to?"

"I do not know, child," Gorgo replied. "No Amazon has ever been to cursed Alar, bless the Goddess."

"If they are," Selene said boldly, "Perhaps the better. They are certainly do not seem like warriors."

The Queen said nothing.

Just then a shadow passed over the sun and for a moment the oasis was darkened by shadow. Selene and the Bodyguard whirled around as they looked up into the sky, and froze at what they saw. Harpies? No, these were much bigger than harpies...but they were winged creatures nonetheless, and horrifyingly man-shaped with huge membranous wings outstretched large enough to block the sun. Selene caught a glimpse of something black and fast swooping lower, coming in close at them. She grabbed her spear as did the other Bodyguard, lunging for their weapons, but then the Queen's commanding voice rang out. "Hold!" The Amazons froze as the winged creatures alighted before them on the sand.

There were two of them and they dropped directly onto the ground from the sky, opposite the party of startled Amazons who stared in amazement at the monstrous creatures (only the Queen and Gorgo looked unaffected). They had to be at least eighteen feet long from head to tail, their long hind-legs and forearms ending in quadruple talons, the latter which gripped the legs of the riders (riders!) on their backs. But the heads of these monsters...

_Dear Gaia_, thought Selene in horror._ They have no face at all!_

The Amazons saw the faces of these beasts, or lack of them (there were no noses, eyes, or mouths, only a black oval where a face ought to have been) only for a moment, before their heads bowed down to the sands, so that only their inward-protruding horns were visible. They tucked their long serpentlike necks tucked under their bodies, and they saw that a man was seated on each of these creatures: they were riding them, as they anyone else would ride their horses.

"Goddess!" Herodias gasped. "What are those?"

"Night-gaunts," muttered Gorgo ominously. "Did I not tell you there are foul things in these lands? Now, be silent!"

The two riders slid casually down the long necks of the winged beasts and approached the Amazons; they were also different from the previous men they had seen. Their carriage and bearing spoke of royalty. One man was clad in a heavy charcoal-black coat despite the heat, his waist bound with a vermillion sash, carrying a tall staff of state in his right hand, and apparently no weapon. He was a lean and formidable-looking man, very tall and stately, with an iron-gray short beard and hair. He looked at the Amazons evenly, without fear. The other's appearance they could not see, his body cloaked by a white robe. He wore a small turban of the same ivory color, a whitish-gold ornament set in its center, from which was tucked in a bird's emerald feather. His face was hidden by a strip from the end of the turban concealing all but his eyes. A scimitar hung at his side, its pommel encrusted with jewels, but to Selene's trained eye it looked only for decoration.

Hawberk had immediately rushed forward when the beasts had dropped from the sky, and made another elaborate bow and announced: "His Majesty, the King of Alar, Ilek-Vad, and his Lord Vizier Titus-"

"Yes, yes, let's dispense with all that," the man with the staff interrupted. His voice was deep and rumbling and commanding, and the fat man bowed again. He looked at Hippolyta directly, and dipped his head courteously. "Your Majesty, forgive our tardiness in greeting you as you arrived. We spent overlong in inspecting some ruins." At this he glanced reproachfully at the turbaned man.

The other man approached Hippolyta directly, unwrapping the strip of cloth from his face, revealing his narrow and saturnine features. He had a wispy brown goatee, and wore strange circlets of glass in front of his eyes (Selene had heard these were often used in Man's World since many of the weak people there had poor vision). He was not unpleasant to look at, although he seemed pale and not quite as imposing as his own Vizier. He bowed to the Queen, placing his right hand against his chest.

"Yes, do indeed forgive us. I hope we have not kept you waiting long. Hawberk?!" The King of Alar's head turned around to glance at his secretary, who nervously came forward obsequiously. "Did you not offer them any food or drink?"

"He did," Hippolyta said. "We declined. We wish nothing other than to talk peacefully."

The King of Alar bowed again deeply. "Your wish shall be granted." He took off his white robe, and the belt with his scimitar, handed it to the secretary, who took it away, and fetched a curule chair.

"So," The King of Alar said brightly. "Shall we begin our negotiations inside? I assure you, you and your ladies have nothing to fear in there, and it is much cooler," For the first time he looked at the Queen's Bodyguard and gave them a friendly smile. Without his royal robe, he looked much smaller, because although he was at least as tall as Hippolyta (or even taller, perhaps it was the turban he still kept on), he looked painfully thin. He was a very lean man, and had no muscles to see. He was clad in high boots, trousers, and a long-sleeved shirt (similar to the guide's odd garment) underneath a sleeveless blue vest of some unknown material. Was this someone for the Amazons to fear? Selene thought, he looked as if she could _blow_ on him and he would topple over like a sapling in a strong wind. For the moment she only stared back at him coldly, as did all the other Amazons.

Hippolyta spoke again. "What I want from you cannot be found in a tent. We will talk out here."

"Well...if you wish."

The King of Alar sat down in his chair, his Vizier standing just behind him. The fat secretary promptly fetched a second chair for the Amazon Queen, who took her seat, never taking her eyes off the King. The Amazons stood behind her, tense and still prepared for anything. But the guards still did not leave their position at the tent's slit opening to attend the King. Strange, thought Selene.

"Now, then, Hippolyta (may I call you Hippolyta?) I am sure you have not come all this way for a social call, although I must say it is pleasant to see you. In Alar unfortunately we do not receive many visitors from...elsewheres, much less a distinguished guest such as yourself."

"I have come for one thing only," Hippolyta said, her voice sharp and to the point. "To negotiate an end to the attacks on our sisters."

The King lifted his hands as if he did not know what she was talking about. "I have made no attacks."

"You deny attacking Amazons and murdering them? You deny you had any knowledge of it?" Gorgo's eyes burned with hatred at the man; Selene thought she would even have physically attacked him if Hippolyta had not rested her hand on Gorgo's arm. She retreated, abashed. "Forgive my outburst, my Lady."

"Whatever it is you think we have done," the bearded Vizier said in his deep, stentorian voice. "May I remind you that your hands are not at all innocent either. You are certainly guilty of attempted murder and provocation of Alar itself on more than once occasion," He pointed sternly at Hippolyta. "Do you deny this?"

The Bodyguard stirred, outraged, but Hippolyta made a barely perceptible gesture with her hand, and they froze.

"I do not deny it," she replied calmly. "I do not deny what our sisters have done..._to preserve our nation_. That is quite a different thing from attacking _your_ lands, which we have not done."

"Hm," The King of Alar looked away, at nothing in particular. "Perhaps I might see things differently. I may have my own reasons to be concerned over how you...'preserve your nation' as you put it."

"Your 'reasons' do not concern me the least," Hippolyta replied, her eyes narrowing. "I am here to end this enmity between us."

"Madame, I assure you there is no 'enmity' on my part," The King said reasonably. "I assure you I personally have no grudge against you."

Hippolyta gave a disbelieving laugh. ""No grudge, you say? I shall say now that I don't believe you..._Randolph Carter._"

For the first time the Vizier and the King of Alar looked surprised. Selene felt surprise, too. What kind of name was that? It sounded like a name from Man's World. Was he just an ordinary man, then?

"So, you know me," Carter said. "Then...you must know my reasons for..."

"I know," Hippolyta fixed him with a knowing look. "Oh yes, I know you - I know now you were on the_ SS Olney, _where you _first_ encountered our people. Then, much later...I offered my apologies for that _other_ incident. It was done without my sanction. You have been remarkably lucky."

"And you, great lady," the Vizier said reproachfully. "Have been remarkably foolish."

In a heartsbeat, Gorgo drew her sword and pointed it at the Vizier; a moment later all the Amazons had drawn, ready to avenge the insult. The Vizier seemed unconcerned with their hostility. Selene quickly glanced at the tent but the guards still hadn't moved, even though the Amazons had drawn arms. Her mind was buzzing: the King of Alar was from Man's World? What did the Queen mean...?

"Lucky twice you may have been, but never thrice!" Gorgo snarled.

"Gorgo!" Hippolyta's voice cut across like a whip. "We will not solve our problem like this."

Gorgo bowed her head again in contrition, and resheathed her sword as did all the Amazons.

Carter coughed delicately. He and the Vizier did not frightened at all, remarkable in itself; most other men would have pissed themselves in fright. "Perhaps if we spoke privately at least, just the two of us?" He turned to the black guards and said a strange word in a tongue Selene did not understand, which sent them retreating away from the tent, out of sight. "I give you my word as a gentleman, nothing untoward will take place."

"My Queen," Gorgo said brokenly. "Please do not..."

"I shall be fine, won't I…_Randolph_?" Hippolyta stood up gracefully. "Let us negotiate within then," She looked at Gorgo, who couldn't meet her eyes. "Have no fear old friend. I shall be fine," She looked back at the King. "And I assure you, my lord" she said loudly. "Your Vizier will be safe out here with my ladies!"

* * *

Once inside the tent (the opening gave way onto an anteroom which was rather modestly furnished, and resembled a habitation of Man's World, complete with desks and bookcases and chairs) Randolph Carter took off his white turban, and rubbed his short close-cropped brown hair. "Now, then, we can speak plainly, so whatever you do not wish your compatriots to hear..."

"There is nothing I may say that I cannot say in front of my sisters," Hippolyta stood in the center of the anteroom, looking all around at the unfamiliar furniture. "I do not know how it is in your lands. I admit I know not the ways of darkness."

"My dear lady, Alar is not the 'darkness' that threatens your shores," Carter sat down comfortably in a chair, much as he would have in his old study back home. "Do please stop standing there with your hand on your sword - you're making me quite nervous!"

Hippolyta glared at him. "I will stay here only as long as I can receive your assurance you will not instigate attacks on the Amazons, either in this world or Man's World!"

"For such assurance I want your assurance in turn that you will not continue such..._unnatural_ practices as you do."

"You dare to call us unnatural?"

"My dear, your whole society is!" Carter waved a hand impatiently. "But then I'm sure you don't care for my opinions. I only ask that you please..._reconsider_. Time may not change here but it does in 'Man's World' as you call it, and I can assure you that you and your people will not go undetected for long. You place yourselves in danger through your...acts."

Hippolyta was silent for a long moment, as Carter poured himself a drink from a silver jug on the table. "I would offer you some of this excellent moon-wine, only I'm afraid you would think I was trying to drug you! I do know something of your history, so I am not completely unsympathetic to your...cause. I do not drink myself frequently, only on special occasions (which I do believe this qualifies for one)...and I recall that it was because I was an observant member of my local temperance union that I did not fall victim to your sisters on the _Olney_," Carter shrugged. "Such foolishness of men - I quite understand how you can take advantage of it."

"A pity," Hippolyta said quietly. "Since I am prepared to do anything to end the attacks on my sisters. _Anything_. I do not want it to come to war between us. We Amazons do not believe in war."

"An outcome I would truly not desire either," Carter's strangely-accented voice replied. Hippolyta thought his cultured voice was the voice of a fist enclosed in a velvet glove. "I do not find the prospect of making war on women, yes even Amazons, ah..._seemly_."

Hippolyta bit back the words that instinctively came to her. Instead, she said, "Therefore, I am ready to offer something else."

Carter paused, staring at her over the rim of his cup. "What?"

"I mean my words. Do you wish a trophy to bring back to Alar?" Hippolyta's hands began unstrapping the links that held her axe to her back, and she tossed aside her robe. She stared at him with a mix of grim determination and resignation, and he knew she was serious.

Carter's eyes widened. "Ah, now then! I'm sure you do not intend..."

Hippolyta tossed the _pelekus_ aside on the table, where it thudded heavily. "I offer myself in place of my sisters. A captive queen in exchange for keeping the monstrosities you dredge up from your nightmare lands from killing any more of my people. Surely this would bring you much acclaim in Alar, yes?"

Carter leapt up from his chair, as if she was menacing him with the battle-axe. "Hippolyta, please. You do not know us. I have no doubt you would be a...an interesting addition to our evening salons, and that many of my court would be, ah, entranced by your company, but I must remind you I am not that much taken with women...another reason I didn't fall victim to your Amazons! Also, I doubt your sisters would take your captivity lying down...I mean, without a fight."

Carter picked up the _pelekus_ (he had to use both hands to do it, and even though he barely did it) and held it back out to Hippolyta. "I've told you what I want. You are a clever woman, I'm sure. Find another way."

Hippolyta took back her axe, holding it easily with one hand. "Carter, why do you care so much for what happens in Man's World? If you love it so much, and I know you do not, you would not have come here."

"I admit I found much of the world becoming vulgar and thoughtless with every passing day, especially to a person of my sensitivities, but let's say I have my own reasons I will not divulge."

"I think there might be sometime else I can offer you," Hippolyta mused. "I think you cannot resist it."

Carter looked faintly alarmed, and Hippolyta smiled mirthlessly. "Do not worry, I am not offering myself!"

"Then, what?"

"The Library of Themyscira."

Judging from Carter's immediate interest, the Amazon knew she was right in her choice. "You may have access to anything in our Library. Anything. I will even provide you with a full inventory, so you may know what is available to you. Think of it, we have works which were lost forever to Man's World. The complete works of the Greek sophists, playwrights, even earlier. The writings of Hermes Trismegistus..."

Carter contemplated this only for a moment. "Very well. I will call a...a _moratorium_, if you want. If," Carter raised a finger. "If you give me your word, that you will exercise some...ah, discretion in your...practices."

Hippolyta nodded grimly. "Very well. We shall agree to...be discreet. But if there are any more missing or murdered Amazons..."

Carter shrugged. "Perhaps you should advise your ladies to be more careful. I know I was."

* * *

Selene tried not to fidget as the Amazons huddled together, waiting for the Queen. "I do not like this!"

"Be still," commanded Amynta, although she looked as if she liked it not either. "We have our orders."

"Those guards there," Selene muttered. "They haven't moved this whole time, I've had my eye on them. What sort of men are they?"

"As long as they do not attack us, I do not care," Berenike growled. "As long as there are only two of them, they are no threat to us. I have seen no others here."

"I do not like the look of his Vizier either," Selene added. "His manner with the Queen!"

"Men have always been like this," Herodias said. "Rude and crude! It is because they are used to speaking only with slavewomen."

"Not only that," Selene hesitated. "I've noticed him...watched him, too..."

Berenike elbowed her. "What, you find him appealing? He must be three times your age!"

Selene glared at her. "No! It's that...look at him...he doesn't look like...like he's _breathing_...his chest does not move..." They looked at the Vizier, seeing him seated quietly in his curule chair, patiently awaiting the return of the King, occasionally addressing Hawberk the Secretary. He sat as still as a statue, although they could see him blink and move his eyes. But it was true. His chest did not move up and down, like a normal man's. Selene shuddered. This was all so unnatural!

Gorgo turned to the Bodyguard, and were surprised to see her looking unusually pale and tired. "Hush, now."

"General, are you unwell?" Amynta whispered.

"I am fine, child...only I wish to return to Themyscira soon," Gorgo said plaintively, hugging her arms. "If I never left the island again, it would sit well with me."

Amynta glanced at her sisters, who shared the same worried look. This was not like Gorgo at all.

The tent flaps opened and the King of Alar and the Queen of Themyscira walked out, the latter striding rapidly back to her Amazons. The Vizier stood up, and the Bodyguard leapt to attention. Hippolyta looked unhurt.

"We return to Themyscira," Hippolyta ordered briskly. "Herodias, prepare the horses."

King Ilek-Vad snapped his fingers and Hawberk bundled forward, dabbling his forehead with his now-sodden kerchief. "I almost forgot, Hawberk - present the gifts to our honored guests. Also ensure our visitors have plenty of food and water for their return journey."

The rotund man hurried forward with some large bundles, bolts of cloth, which he presented in his nervous manner to Amynta. She looked at Hippolyta, who nodded, and only then she took them.

"Perhaps I should have enclosed a copy of my latest sonnets," Carter said to her. "I would be honored if it were included as an addition to your library!"

"I'm sure you would," Hippolyta replied dryly.

When the Amazons prepared to depart, Carter approached the Queen just before she was about to mount her horse, and offered his outstretched hand. Selene stared; what manner of gesture was that?

"I...ah...sincerely hope you will think on what we discussed."

Hippolyta stared at his hand for a moment, then took it slowly. "And...I hope you will think on it as well, King Ilek-Vad."

The Bodyguard stood staring at this previously unfathomable sight for a moment, as their Queen held the hand of a man (in itself a rare sight); then they noticed that the King's expression was turning into one of consternation, his face turning from white, to red, and redder, as he began to look discomfited.

Hippolyta merely stood where she was, gripping Carter's hand tightly and not letting go. She smiled then, as Carter's knees started to buckle. "We are fortunate to have met face-to-face, King. I do hope we may have such opportunity again. I thank you deeply for your hospitality."

"Oh, you are quite welcome!" The King gasped, trying to maintain his bearing.

The Bodyguard strove to contain their mirth as Hippolyta finally released the King's hand, and he drew it back to his chest, trying not to fall over. The Vizier only rolled his eyes, as Hippolyta mounted and with a shout the Amazons rode off in a clatter of hooves and dust.

Once they were out of earshot, Selene allowed herself a laugh, as did the rest of the Bodyguard. She was greatly amused by the sight of their Queen humbling this odd King, that for the first time she did not notice the black-robed guards, who had finally moved from their position, as they turned their concealed heads, their glittering eyes staring with hatred at the departing warrior-women.

* * *

As the Amazons rode off, both King Ilek-Vad – Randolph Carter – and his Vizier Titus watched them for some time, until they disappeared from sight. The Royal Secretary Hawberk breathed a sigh of relief, and dabbed his forehead for the umpteenth time today.

"Thank heavens, those savages have gone! I was quite worried there, that we would all be murdered where we stood!"

"No fear of that today," Titus said complacently. "We shall depart also. Prepare to strike the tents."

"As you wish, m'Lord."

As Hawberk left, Titus turned to Carter as they walked back towards their mounts, the night-gaunts.

"You know, it would have solved many problems if you had simply accepted Hippolyta's offer."

Carter turned surprised eyes onto his Vizier. "So you heard?"

"You know I can. My acoustic enhancements work very well."

"Oh yes, I quite forgot. Yes, it may have. But it would have come at quite a personal cost to me…I do recall telling you I was married once before!"

"Oh surely, she was not an Amazon!"

"Oh my, no…Sonia was a flapper," Carter sighed. "And one such ordeal was quite enough."

"Even so," Titus shrugged. "Hippolyta could not have been any worse, perhaps."

"No," Carter replied. "I may agree with you on that point. Did I tell you, Sonia once pushed me down the steps of our apartment building?"

"Yes, now, I recall you did tell me that once. What was the reason for that bit of domestic violence?"

"When I objected to her turning our bathtub into a still. My goodness, all the gin she drank! And that was not the worst of her habits..."

Titus turned as Hawberk came running back up as Carter rambled off on a reminiscence as he was occasionally prone to do.

"M'lord, the guards have gone!"

"...and those dreadful negro jazz records she played at all hours of the day..."

"What? Hm, I hope they haven't gone after the Amazons, that will cause some unpleasantness."

" I am afraid they have, m'Lord. I think they were angry when that Amazon woman, ah, what she did to the King..."

"Damnation! Well, nothing we can do about it now. We'll send someone else to help with the tent breakdown."

"Very good, m'Lord."

"…Still, she was probably right to divorce me, but I'm afraid I never did get around to signing the papers before I came here. Well, I'm sure she thought I had died, as far she was concerned. Although she may be no longer among the living by now either, that was so long ago." Carter looked out into the desert where the Amazons had departed. "But to return to the present, such as it is, I wonder if we have really forestalled anything."

"Was that your intent all along? To prevent the prophecy?"

Carter shrugged. "Mmm. I couldn't say so myself. You know I don't believe such superstitious nonsense. But such a society as Themyscira is structured is doomed to fall - it is inevitable. It simply cannot sustain itself. Either its leader, Hippolyta, will die eventually…or its downfall will be due some other calamity."

"It seems that we may play a role in this calamity," Titus said. "If your plan works."

"Oh, I have no plan, no plan at all, really," Carter examined at his fingernails. "It will all be due to the Amazons themselves, what happens to them, really, will be brought on by their own actions. Whatever role we will play in it will all be incidental and epilogue."

"Still, I must say I was surprised at Hippolyta's offer," Titus added. "My informants tell me that she has a daughter now."

Carter looked at him in surprise. "Does she now?"

"Yes, and conceived in a most extraordinary fashion, so I've been told," Titus went on as if telling a story. "She had a longing for a child – a daughter of course – and prayed to the gods for one. Then either through an oracle, or perhaps some vision of one sort or another, she was instructed to go out into the wilderness and sculpt the image of a baby from the clay she found there. She did as the gods instructed, offered prayers and incantations and whatnot, and promptly fell asleep. And next morning…voila! The clay baby had come to life, and now lives as a real, breathing infant in the palace of Themyscira." Titus lifted his brows and looked at Carter speculatively.

Randolph Carter stared at him for a moment, then shook his head in amused disbelief. "My old friend, I shall be the first to admit, that (even putting aside my first marriage) that while I am no certainly no expert on the fairer sex…even I know that babies come from a vagina!"

Carter whistled, and at the sound the night-gaunt rose into the air. Titus considered that thought a moment, shrugged, and wheeled his night gaunt to depart after the King of Alar.

* * *

**Longest chapter yet! Thanks for reading up to here! Those of you familiar with the Lovecraft will recognize Randolph Carter. The most famous story he is in is "Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath." It's a very bizarre story, very fantastical. The night-gaunts are from that story too. Randolph Carter may just be here for the prologue I think, not sure if he will show up again, but he does something crucial to the story. You may even realize what the "guards" are underneath their robes...next chapter Hippolyta's going to put her battleaxe to good use...action finally! It will be the last chapter of the prologue. As always, please review!**


	6. Prologue - The Horror in the Dark

**Prologue – The Horror in the Dark**

_The Borderlands (The Not So Distant) Past_

Although the coolness and fresh water of the oasis was tempting, Selene much more preferred to be riding away from the mysterious black tents of the Alarians. The first men she'd met did not impress her; she thought they were strange and absurd, most especially their King, but even more it was unsettling. The whole feeling at the oasis indeed seemed to her to be possessed of a disturbing, dreamlike quality - perhaps the result of whatever unwholesome magick the Alarians practiced. She was happy that the Queen was ready to return to blessed Themyscira.

Selene could tell the entire party felt the same way. A lighter mood prevailed among the Amazons now that they were on the return leg of their journey. Even the stern Gorgo's mood was changed from the odd melancholy she displayed when she was amongst the Alarians; Selene and Berenike were amazed to see her smile and laugh like a young girl, and exchanging jests with Amynta and Berenike as if she were still an ordinary Guardswoman. Queen Hippolyta also looked pleased to be returning home, no doubt she wished to be with the young Princess.

"We should have an easier journey on the way back, and it should not take us as long," the Queen said casually, leaning back comfortably in the saddle.

"Thanks be to Gaia," Gorgo replied gratefully. "I should not want to spend a minute longer here in the Borderlands than necessary."

Hippolyta looked sidelong at the elder Amazon. "Are you not going to ask what treaty I made with the Alarian King?"

Gorgo shrugged. "I trust you two came to a suitable arrangement, Queen."

Hippolyta stared ahead of her at the long vistas of sand and rock still ahead of them, with the high walls of the canyon throwing them in much-desired shade.

"For the price of a few moldy old scrolls, he will…discourage further attacks on our people."

Gorgo looked at the Queen, startled. "You would let him set foot in the Library? On Themyscira?"

"Of course not him, you're sounding like the High Council now!" Hippolyta's lips curved in a derisive smile "Perhaps he will send one of the Alarian women in his place."

"You mean that creature, that 'Secretary'?" Gorgo snorted, suddenly sounding much like her usual self. "Such a sight on Themyscira will inspire the entire Island to rise up in arms and think Alar an easy conquest!"

Hippolyta chuckled. "It would be quite entertaining, would it not!"

Selene heard the Queen and Gorgo laugh together; the sound made her smile. Amynta and Herodias were talking between themselves of some gossip, and she looked around for her friend, to do the same. To her surprise, she saw that Berenike had dropped back behind them, her horse at a standstill. She was looking behind them, past the curve of canyon they had just passed. She rode back to her.

"What is it?"

Berenike looked as if she were listening hard for something, and squinting. "I thought I…I saw something move."

Selene followed her eyes but she saw and heard nothing. "I see nothing unordinary. Perhaps some little lizard spooked your horse?"

Berenike shook her head. "No, it was a shadow upon the walls that first caught my eye, too big for an eagle or a large bird…"

Selene shrugged. "There are many shadows in this place."

Her friend shuddered. "Ghosts, evil spirits, I wouldn't be surprised."

Selene was in too good a mood to be frightened by tales meant for small sisters. "Ghosts and spirits cannot wield sword or spear, they are no match for us!"

"Sisters!" Gorgo's voice rang stern and commanding, echoing through the empty canyon. "Maintain discipline! Hurry up back here!"

"Come on!" Selene said. "Before she completely looses her good mood!"

Selene spun her horse round and galloped to catch up with the rest of the Amazons. Berenike hesitated a moment, still uncertain, but unwilling to be left behind she quickly followed. Silence resumed in the canyon as it was left empty again…until the echo of a soft trickle of rocks cascading down the wall, untouched by human hands…they rolled down to the floor of the canyon. Nothing else moved. A creaking noise of a large slab, shifting position...then...silence, again.

* * *

Night came quickly upon them in the desert wastelands. Hippolyta picked a suitable site to rest and make camp, a small clearing free of big rocks and dangerous insects. The horses were corralled near a half-circle of scrub, where they could partake of the lichens which managed to sprout among the rocks. Selene scrounged about and managed to find just enough sticks of wood to get a fire going. Berenike took first watch over the horses. The rest of the Amazons stacked their spears and armor and settled around the fire, their long cloaks wrapped about them to keep out the evening chill. They relaxed, perhaps for the first time they were able to since they had begun their journey, but not completely - they were not home yet.

"Home," murmured Hippolyta as she stared into the fire. The other Amazons glanced at her. The Queen then looked up at the night sky, which was clear, the stars above them many and providing some faint light. "I do not think these are the same stars we have at home. The constellations are different."

Gorgo shuddered. "They are ill-omened stars...I have heard it said by the eldest sisters that it is best not to stare too hard at alien stars...otherwise they might suck you up into the sky, to take you away from your home forever..."

Selene giggled, but stifled it as soon as she saw Gorgo glaring at her. "You may laugh, child, no doubt thinking I am an old fool! But I promise you, you would not have such levity if you had the experience of being gone from home for many moons, not knowing if you will ever see the familiar stars of your home again or..."

Now it was Hippolyta's turn to laugh, clapping her on shoulder. "Dear friend, enough! I would prefer something that reminds of us home, even if the stars do not."

Herodias nodded, knowing what the Queen wanted. In a soft voice, she began her song: an ancient melody all the Amazons knew by heart. A song of longing, of lost and regained freedom, of a world only Hippolyta and Gorgo had ever truly seen. First Herodias, then Selene and Amynta, then Gorgo and the Queen herself joined in, gazing solemnly at the fire, singing the refrain.

_Iron to blood_

_Blood to iron_

_Now the hour of our passing_

_Younger wait to take their place_

_Even they weep, who have them vanquished_

_Never more to see their face*_

As the last verses dwindled to silence in the still night air, the Amazons sat quietly together, taking comfort against the darkness in their shared heritage, their bonds of women-warriorhood which bound all of them more strongly than any other ties. Finally Hippolyta stirred.

"Let us take rest. We still have many miles to ride tomorrow."

* * *

Selene was awakened by a noise. It was not an unusual noise, only the sound of horses, which she had heard all her life, almost as soon as she could walk. But the sound was one of distress. Something was agitating the horses. She could hear them snorting and stamping their hooves.

Selene bolted up, wide awake now, and saw that Amynta and Herodias, were likewise up, staring about them watchfully; like her had been roused by something. She saw Berenike trying to calm the horses, grabbing at their leads, calling softly to them, trying to calm them.

"Berenike! What is wrong with them?" Amynta demanded, jumping to her feet and storming over to her.

"They smell something bad! Help me!"

Selene and Amynta hurried up and rushed forward, realizing that if this continued, the horses might try to bolt in fear or hurt themselves. Herodias heard a noise behind her and spun around, but it was Gorgo and Hippolyta, now awakened too. They had immediately adopted fighting poses, and Herodias stared, suddenly feeling that first tingling of impending violence. Then she smelled it, just as the others did. A sickening, sweetish odor, like meat that had gone ripe in the sun and was breeding maggots. It had been faint, but it was growing stronger by the second.

"What is that-?"

The night air was suddenly pierced by a splitting screech, which shattered the air. For a second it froze their blood totally, being nothing that any of them had ever heard.

Except perhaps Hippolyta and Gorgo, who roared. "To your swords!"

The Amazons rushed for their weapons but then the night was blurred by something dark and fast leaping through the air; Selene caught a glimpse of something black and huge jumping onto the horses, clawing at them with sharp talons, sending Berenike and Amynta sprawling to the ground as the horses screamed and stampeded, the ones that were not immediately disemboweled, and collapsed, tangled in the ropy intestines that spilled from their ripped bellies. Then the black thing leapt off and into their midst.

"Berenike!"

Selene lunged for her spear, drawing her _kopis _at the same moment, just as she saw Gorgo jab it with a spear; the man-sized creature grabbed it and spun with her motion, sending her flying into the dust. Then it turned its attention to her and she saw it fully, and froze as if turned to ice.

At first she thought it a large dog, but it was standing _upright_ on two legs, and it was much bigger than any dog she had ever seen, and then she saw it was no dog at all: its long forelegs dangled down to its knees, its paws extended revealing long and sharp claws. Its body was covered all over with stiff black fur over splotchy and wrinkled, rubbery skin. Its long canine head with its eyes, glowing lambently in the starlight, focused on her and its jaws gaped, revealing fangs longer than that of any animal she'd seen before. That was all she could see, while in her moment of paralysis, Queen Hippolyta was upon it now, screaming frightfully in the Amazonian battle-cry and raising the flesh on Selene's arms. She snatched the foul creature about the head and throat and for a moment it looked as if she would actually wrest the thing's head from its body, but then a second creature came rushing forward on all fours; it leapt into their camp and flung itself at the Queen, and she and it were carried off into the brush in a tumbling ball of struggling limbs, fighting. The first creature made a horrid glubbing noise in its throat, sounding like someone drowning in phlegm.

Herodias charged it, howling with rage, swinging her _xiphos_. It cut into the creature's back, but the thing _glibbered _then and grabbed at Herodias, ripping the sword from her hands, knocking her down to her knees, and its jaws yawned wide, until it looked as if it would bite the Amazon's head off whole.

Selene broke from her paralysis and she rushed at it with the slashing _kopis_. It jumped back nimbly, flinging Herodias to the dirt. She cut at it wildly, barely seeing it in the darkness. Then she felt a terrible pain as it knocked her aside, as easily as it had thrown off Herodias. It clawed at her, but only her youth's quickness enabled her to roll out of the way. She snatched a fallen spear and she tried to thrust at it, blindly, her eyes filling with tears.

It shoved her back and in the next moment the doglike thing was upon her, and she felt herself flying backwards as its forward motion carried her through the air. She crashed onto the ground, and the next moment she was face to face with it snapping hairy muzzle, its slavering jaws dripping foul saliva onto her. Only her spear shaft thrust between her kept its sharp fangs from ripping out her throat. She stared up in horror at the creature's face, saw its eyes…it's obscene, _human_ eyes, glowering down into hers. Those eyes…_which were the eyes of the guards she had seen standing outside the black tent_.

The doglike abomination with its human eyes _glibbered_ down at her, as if it was speaking in some mad language unknown to humankind. Its stinking breath washed over her and she gagged - it stunk of charnel pits, of death. She smelled her own death on it, and she felt her strength beginning to ebb, pain echoing throughout her body.

Then the figure of the Queen loomed up behind the monster, and blotted out the stars behind her. Her face was set in the possessed battle-frenzy, drawing her great _pelekus_ across her body. With an earthshaking roar she swung it across and the head of the monster was lopped right off its body in one mighty stroke, flying off into the scrub. Something less like blood and more like black ichor gushed from its throat and with a gurgling cry Selene pushed the twitching corpse off her. Something came in fast in the corner of her eye and she cried out a warning. Hippolyta whirled around, just as the second thing launched itself at her. In one swift motion Hippolyta spun and swung the battle-axe straight down, slicing through its skull, cleaving the beast-man straight down the middle. The two halves of its body dropped to the sand, guts and organs and unspeakable fluids spilling out of it.

The silence about them was sudden and absolute, shocking. Selene coughed, still gagging at the terrible smell, staring at the still twitching rubbery corpse. Then she saw Hippolyta collapse to her knees, dropping the _pelekus_ to her side, her head bowed.

Selene's eyes widened in shock. "Queen Hippolyta!"

Selene rushed to her side, followed by Gorgo. Hippolyta's hand was pressed on her left hip. Selene saw blood trickling through her fingers.

"It looks like I have not come out of this scrap unscathed," she muttered through gritted teeth. "It slashed at me with its claws before I could get free."

Steps behind them made Selene turn quickly, but it was Gorgo, limping. She dropped down by Hippolyta's side. "Only two of them, bless the Goddess. Quckly!" She ordered Selene. "Heat your spear shaft in the fire! The wound must be cauterized immediately!"

Selene did as she was ordered. While she waited for the metal to heat, both Amynta, then Herodias regained consciousness, and staggered over to them, relieved to see that the Queen was alive. They had cuts and bruises but their injuries were minor.

"Where is Berenike?" Selene suddenly asked. She rushed to the remains of the corral where she saw her sister sprawled in the dirt. Crying out she rushed to her side, and grasped her friends shoulders, keening already in the mourning cry, but Berenike elbowed her in the ribs, cutting it off, as she sat up slowly.

"It is…only my arm which is broken, not the rest of me. Where-where is the Queen?"

"She's alive, but wounded." The sisters hugged, and stumbled back to the campfire. Selene reached for the spear-haft, but Gorgo shoved her aside, as if Selene was making an imposition.

"I shall see to her!"

Queen Hippolyta lay on her side, her clothing removed to show a deep, bleeding wound to her side, just above the hipbone. She gripped the hands of her Guardswomen as Gorgo approached with the heated speartip.

"Ah," Hippolyta said as she saw the red-hot metal. "How often have we done this, old friend?"

"Too many times," grumbled Gorgo and pressed it to the wound. Hippolyta did not cry out, though her face contorted in pain.

Once it was certain the bleeding was stopped and the wound sealed, Gorgo bound it by ripping strips of the royal cloak for bandages for her and the others.

"We can use it to make a sling for Berenike's arm," Hippolyta said. "Best use for it anyway. Where are the horses?"

"Stampeded, my Queen," Herodias, as the senior Guardswoman bowed her head and looked awful, feeling responsible. "A good thing we removed the foodstuffs, and half of the water."

"It is not your fault, Herodias," Hippolyta said. "It is mine for not thinking Carter's ghouls would not take revenge for the humiliation I gave their master."

"'Ghouls'?" Selene was stunned. "Those are his...guards?"

Amynta retrieved the head of the ghoul Hippolyta had decapitated, ironically carrying it in a banner of silk which was a present from the King of Alar. In the early dawn light, they saw that it indeed looked like a dog, but was shockingly close to human in the set of its facial features. The eyes were open and staring, and they were not a dog's eyes...they were clearly human eyes, although its expression was far from human. Selene felt cold and sick, thinking of the black robed guards.

"Ghouls are things that once were men, but who allowed themselves to become such, because of their craving for human flesh," Gorgo's voice was filled with disgust. "Such is the ways of men!"

Selene looked down at the thing in horror, seeing what which had come so close to killing her. This was once a man? It was closer to animal, but animal ever looked so unholy. If such things could happen in the worlds beyond...and if men used such things...

"We will take this back to Themyscira and hang it from the palace walls, to show the perfidy of the King of Alar!" Gorgo ordered. "Now bind your wounds firmly, and let us go..we must waste no more time if we are to get to the coast on time."

Despite their injuries, the Amazons managed to recover one of the horses, but the rest had disappeared into the wastelands, not to be seen. Gorgo wanted Hippolyta to ride, but Hippolyta insisted Berenike take it, as she was the most injured with her broken arm. They kept on their guard for further attacks, and their nights were filled with trepidation, but no more came. With the ghoul's head hanging in a bag from the saddle the Amazons finally made it to the coast (with a day to spare), and it was quite a bedraggled and exhausted party, not looking very Royal, they presented to the shocked and relieved crew of Calla's trireme.

"What in Hera's name has happened to you, my Queen?" Calla gasped.

Hippolyta smiled, despite her exhaustion. "It's quite a story, but I will tell it you...once we put out to sea and are on our way home. You can put it in a song."

Selene and Berenike glanced at each other. Selene grasped Berenike's good hand, "Do you think they'll believe our story back in the barracks?"

"Why not? We have a souvenir to prove it." She patted the bag, which was already beginning to reek quite badly.

The Amazons wasted no time in boarding the trireme and departing the Borderlands. All the Amazons returned to Themyscira safely, but the ghoul (or that part of him) did not. Once separated from the body, the head had begun decomposing rapidly, and by mid-voyage, it had decayed into an unrecognizable, hideous and gloopy stinking mess. It was tossed overboard.

Gorgo watched the thing sink into the waters. Hippolyta stood beside her.

"Do you think the King will honor his agreement?" Gorgo asked.

"For awhile."

"What shall we do then?"

"Then, we shall have a reckoning, perhaps."

Gorgo crossed her arms. "Perhaps we should not wait, then."

Hippolyta squeezed her old friend's hand. "I know, but he has plots of his own. Let him reveal his hand first, then we shall deal with him, until then," Hippolyta looked towards the ship's prow, towards home. "I have a daughter to raise."

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**Thanks for your continued patience and reading! Ghouls are a big part of Lovecraft's story "Dreamquest of Unknown Kadath." In it the ghouls are the GOOD GUYS. Will they reappear in the story? Will a certain Gotham City resident meet one and have a chat with it?**

***This song is from Steven Pressfield's excellent novel _Last of the Amazons._**

**Anyway, we've reached the end of the prologue! Finally! Next chapter is plenty of Clark and Diana goodness. Please stay tuned!**

**Reviews as always are welcome!**


	7. Chapter 1: At The Fortress

**[Finally Clark and Diana appear in this chapter, takes place a little after the events in "The Red House." Somewhat angsty but (WARNING) some M-ish rated gratuitous sexy bit at the end and of course there is a naked Clark in shower scene for no particular reason. Read on and review!]**

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**Chapter One: At the Fortress **

Superman flew swiftly over the vast and empty Arctic tundra, past the cerulean-white frozen seas and glaciers to the only home he now had left on the planet Earth: his Fortress of Solitude. It was the only place where he could be totally alone, where the sounds of the world could be shut out and no human technology invade its alien defenses, or so it was thought. For himself, he couldn't wait to be back at home (such as it was), knowing that Diana awaited him there. He supposed that, literally, it no longer was a fortress 'of solitude' since another was there, but he much preferred it that way now. Diana had given up her apartment too, in preparation for their journey to Themyscira. They would be gone after tomorrow, once they had finished their work on the Watchtower for the Justice League.

The air was frigidly cold and Clark welcomed it as it rushed over him. He hoped that it would eliminate the odors of burning oil and black smoke – and the reek of burning human flesh – from his nostrils: they were unpleasant reminders of what he had recently witnessed. He had just finished a rescue operation - a family of four trapped aboard a sinking yacht in the Mediterranean – and was back in the air when he heard the terrible cries far below him. A leaking oil pipeline in remote Africa had exploded, when villagers were trying to siphon off some of the dangerous substance to use in their homes, and to sell. When he reached the site his eyes beheld an absolute vision of hell, the type that old Reverend Dyer used to preach about back at the First Methodist Church of Smallville: a tremendous fire filling and darkening the sky with roiling black clouds of smoke, innumerable charred and burning corpses sprawled everywhere, people on fire and screaming, and families desperately searching for their loved ones amidst all this chaos. There were hundreds of men, women, and little children, many badly burned, some beyond recognition, yet still alive.

He had put out the pipeline fire with his chilling-breath. That was the easy part. The hard part was the aftermath. Since he was the first responder on the scene he did as much first aid and triage as he was able; he helped transport the injured to hospitals, some he had to fly many miles away, their flesh sloughing off in his hands even as he picked them up carefully. He thought he would never forget the sight. Even though he had become used to the sight of dead and badly injured people years ago, this time it had shaken him deeply. No doubt because of the dead children he had seen, some clutched in the arms of their parents who had died with them trying to protect them, others hysterically weeping over the tiny blackened bodies. He couldn't help but think...

Almost as upsetting, although unintentional, had been the reaction of the local townspeople. Even in the midst of their sorrow, they were happy to see him, crying out their thanks in their local dialect, many of them reaching out to touch him to find out if he was actually real, astounded that such a miraculous being would help them, when so many other international agencies in the past had failed or taken advantage of them. He was moved by their kindness, and stayed as long as he could at the International Red Cross medical facilities nearby, where he continued to assist the few doctors and nurses, members of the Doctors Without Borders organization.

"We are so indebted to you Superman!" Dr. Saissons, a French-educated Nigerian physician, told him while he was there. "But for you, many of these people would have died."

Clark felt uncomfortable with the effusive praise, although it was meant sincerely. "I only did what I had to do."

"Ah, my friend, I believe you did as your conscience guided. You gain no benefit from this. That proves you are indeed a moral man, unlike what is whispered about you, in the halls of the UN."

The small African man then clutched Superman's hand urgently, and leaned forward to whisper to the startled superhero. "My brother, he is a diplomat. Very high ranking diplomat. He hears many things and he confides to me, since I am the only once he trusts. My friend, there are plots against you and your comrades, in your League of Justice. Many do not like you, because of exactly this you do," Dr. Saissons waved his hand at the scene of injured patients in their rows, waiting with patient dignity in spite of their pain. "Ah, our lot is tragic! Please to be careful. And know, my friend, you may have refuge here, should their hands turn against you."

Dr. Saissons had left him then, as his medical attentions were needed elsewhere, leaving Clark alone with a feeling of deep foreboding, although he had heard the rumors too. Then he felt a tugging at his cape, and looked down to see a little girl, with a bandaged forehead, shyly offering him some flowers, her parents standing nearby watching her with pride. Clark felt something inside him break. He bent down to hug the child, gently, then made his excuses to leave, quickly, citing other emergencies. He only felt an unexplainable need to see Diana as soon as possible.

Clark saw the looming diagonal towers of the Fortress ahead of him, nearly invisible against the glaciers, and he tried to push those memories aside for now. As he approached the structure, a section of it opened at his contact and then he was within the massive structure. He alighted to the smooth surface floor of his citadel. He was home.

Yet the Fortress hardly felt like a real home and indeed what it resembled, if any human visitor saw it, was some kind of extremely advanced scientific research laboratory, or a huge office building, as if it could be the headquarters of Microsoft or Apple or NASA. Clark supposed that it was all in keeping with the Kryptonian aesthetic (if they had one) apparently being a society focused on utility rather than luxury, but it was one reason why Clark preferred to live in Metropolis in the past. He only came here when he was in the mood to do scientific research of his own, or wished to study and commune with his Kryptonian heritage (which, admittedly, was infrequent). There were still things within the Fortress that even he wasn't sure what their purpose was. There were databanks he was still not able to access, as if their accessibility was predetermined on his solving some intricate problem of logic (which the Kryptonians seemed to be fond of). There was even a large empty room within the Fortress in the shape of a sphere the size of his farmhouse in Smallville. It was completely round within and without, its entrance also was in the shape of an oval, smooth and without any angles in its design, or interior. He had not been able to determine what this room was for, or what its function was. It was just another part of his inheritance and he guessed it could take him a lifetime to figure them all out. Perhaps these mental puzzles were something designed to stimulate his mind while he dwelled amidst a primitive race, as his biological parents considered humanity. Perhaps, Clark thought, they had received TV transmissions from Earth!

Clark strode over to a wall-unit and searched for Diana's whereabouts. He saw that she was in the gym, exercising. Like him, when not preparing for the journey home, she had taken extra shifts with the Justice League, working as much as possible, as if she was making up in advance for the time when she obviously would not be able to be so active. When she wasn't on a mission, she was busy working out, as if to prove she had completely healed from her injuries.

Clark knew better than to interrupt Diana during one of her workout sessions, or to try to tell her to 'take it easy.' He decided to take a shower first, perhaps that would calm him.

The air temperature in the Fortress was of median range, so it was neither hot nor cold, despite its chill and sterile appearance. The bathing facilities would be considered state-of-the-art anywhere in the world. Once he entered the showers Clark stripped off his suit and stood naked underneath the hot water of the shower, steam immediately clouding the air. The hot water was hot enough to give an ordinary human first or second-degree burns, but to him it was suitable for what he wanted. He lost track of time of how long he stood there, letting the water, distilled from the arctic snows, soak his hair and run down the contours of his tall, muscular body. He rested his palms against the tiled wall, his eyes closed, feeling this hard day wash away from him with the water. Only one thing was missing. After the shower, Clark went to sit in the sauna. The temperature here was also too hot for any humans to endure for a minute, but it was quite comfortable for him. He closed his eyes, trying to de-stress. Sitting here gave him the peace and the quiet atmosphere to think, or to not think.

Shortly he heard a new sound, the sound of someone else entering the sauna and coming closer to him. He didn't move but sighed deeply as he felt Diana's hands moving across his shoulders. He leaned back as her hands pressed and kneaded the wide slab of muscle across his back, knowing just where to apply pressure. She was the only one strong enough to really give him a proper massage. Diana grunted, and he leaned forward so she could work his lower back. Under her ministrations he felt himself relax fully, perhaps for the first time in days, ever since leaving Smallville. At times like these he wondered how he could have lived all these years without his Diana. But this led him to think about what if something had happened to her while she was away on a solo mission, and then his misgivings started to return. This never used to worry him before. Diana could take care of herself, but after what had happened in Smallville…he rubbed his face with his hands.

"What troubles you, beloved?" Diana's voice whispered in his ear. She had noticed his tension.

"Oh," Clark sat up, thinking quickly; he didn't want to talk about the horrible events of today just yet. "I was just thinking about what I would say to your mother when I meet her. I know exactly what to say now."

Whenever she could, Diana had coached him on Amazon etiquette and behavior, especially when greeting the Queen. She did this repeatedly, as if she was sure he would forget. He hadn't had this much coaching even when the Justice League were introduced to Queen Elizabeth II.

He felt Diana's hands freeze against his spine, just as he expected.

"You do?" She said in a low and anxious voice.

Clark smiled mischievously. Although his back was to her, he knew exactly the look she would have on her face. "Of course! I'll say, 'Mom, it's a pleasure to meet you! I'm so happy to be married to your only daughter. I'm sorry you missed our wedding, but I got you the _The Hangover _DVD to watch_,_ it's pretty much the same thing. Yes, I do make sure to treat her well whenever I'm not despoiling her daily, and twice on Sundays. But she has plenty of time to do the floors and windows before cooking dinner for me and Jimmy Olsen, that's my best friend, he's moved in with us and Diana doesn't mind…"

Diana shoved the back of his head as she stood up in indignation. "Stop being a foolish!" She fetched her towel and thew another one at Clark's face as he laughed. "Say that in front of my mother and you will have a prime view of Themyscira from the palace walls!"

Clark pulled the towel off his face. "Just the head part I''ll bet."

Clark couldn't help but stare wistfully at Diana's naked body, covered with a thin sheen of sweat, her dark tresses trailing down her slender back. She had barely begun to show her pregnancy, just the slightest bit of swelling around her middle, and in her breasts…which were then obscured when she crossed her arms and glared at him.

"Oh, I'm just having a bit of fun, Diana! Everything's just been so…we've just been so busy. I've hardly seen you these past three days. "

Diana wrapped the towel about her waist, hearing the tone of longing in his voice.

"You had a difficult day, then." She could always tell when he was trying to mask some other emotion.

Clark sighed. He told her of the pipeline explosion and the hospital, leaving out what the Nigerian doctor had told him.

Diana sat next to him on the edge of the bench. "You should not brood over such things," she said gently.

"I can't seem to help it," Clark bent forward with his hands clasped together. "Everything now seems to be...I don't know...amplified somehow."

"It is because you are worried about the baby?"

Clark looked at her. "How can I not be? Aren't you?"

"Why? Is it because our child will be unusual, different? We both know what that is like. Do you think our child will be helpless? She will not be," Diana tried to reassure him. "She will have us. My mother and all my sisters on Themyscira. The Justice League…"

"That's not what I meant," Clark said slowly. "I mean…." He took a deep breath, looked down. "The thing is...I don't know…what kind of father I will be."

Diana stared at him, perplexed. "Clark? I don't understand you."

"I mean I don't know!" In frustration, he stood up, wrapping the towel about his waist, paced away from her. "Jor-el, all I know of him comes from a hologram. My father, Jonathan Kent, he was my father but he was a _human_. He was raised by _human_ parents. He wanted to raise me as a human, the best he could. I can hardly raise a half-Kryptonian half-Amazon half…_god-being_ the same way I was."

"Why not?" Diana insisted. "You were raised by good people, you told me so."

"I was raised in Smallville, and until I was seventeen I thought I was a human…a human who was convinced at one point that he had severe mental problems, at that. I was an only child, I no had brothers or sisters. I never even babysat for money! I don't know anything about children..."

"Clark," Diana tried to reassure him. "Will you love our child?"

"Of course I will."

"Then of what nature is your fear? Our child will have your love and mine. If she - or he - is born...born defective, or weak, in any way, it will still have our love."

"Diana, I'm not just talking about love," She could hear frustration's teeth in his voice. "We are not like any other people, you know that. We're different and so will be our baby. There's just so many unknowns...it's...damn!"

There was a moment's silence, the only sound being the hissing of the water on the hot rocks.

"If it makes any difference," Diana said in small voice. "I…I don't know what kind of mother I will be, either. If our child is a girl, my mother – Hippolyta – will want to see her raised as a princess on Themyscira, just as I was."

"Do you want that?"

"I...I think I do...if I am there," Diana spoke slowly, as if she hadn't really thought of that before. Perhaps that was what Clark was trying to make her consider.

"And if it it is a boy?" Clark asked quietly.

Silence, again, longer this time.

"I don't know," Diana finally admitted. "Perhaps we shouldn't have given up your apartment in Metropolis, since I have heard it is a long waiting list even for a good preschool."

Both of them laughed softly at this glum realization.

"What the hell," Clark threw up his hands. "Maybe you're right. Anyway, it is too late to worry about this now. We're going to be parents whether we know how to do it or not."

"That could likely be said for many people," Diana pointed out. "Does anyone really know what to do? I don't think my Mother did!"

Clark rapped his fist thoughtfully against the wall, pensively. Seeing he was still tense, Diana thought she knew how to best ease him. Before he knew it Diana was at his side, her hand slipping underneath the towel, at the same time she pressed her naked body against his front, rubbing her bared breasts against his hirsute chest. The friction made her hot, hotter than the steam in the sauna, and her hand sought to replicate that same feeling for her husband. The towel slipping from her slim waist, leaving her completely naked against him. Clark was surprised, but only for a moment - he had been deprived of her for much too long. His mouth sought hers quickly and their lips pressed together hungrily, strongly. It did not take long at all - Clark felt himself stiffening - rising to the occasion as it were - and he tore off the towel from his body, flinging the damp cloth aside impatiently, as their breaths started coming in short, harsh gasps. Diana's other arm wrapped tightly around his back as she felt his manhood pressing against her belly, and she pulled him even closer to her. Clark stared into her eyes, and saw desire for him in them, mirroring his desire for her. How many days had it been since they were together like this? Much too long!

Diana's heartbeat pounded in her chest. He roughly pulled her down to the floor with him; he braced his back against the wall as Diana threw her legs around his waist, straddling his groin. She had gripped him the entire time, her breathing growing faster, urging him on. She broke off her kiss and stared him in the eyes.

"If you do not know the kind of father you will be ," she grunted in coarse challenge, her accent coming through strongly. "Then show me the kind of man you are."

"Oh, I'll do that, Amazon," Clark's voice was thick and harsh. His arms encircled his waist as he pulled her down on him forcefully, just his hips bucked. Her fingers digging into his shoulders, Diana's eyes widened as she opened her mouth. "I'll do so...much more!"

One good thing about the Fortress, Clark thought dimly, as he "showed" Diana. You could make as much noise as you liked without the neighbors thinking someone was being murdered!

* * *

_Hours Later_

The polar bear wandered close to the strange thing poking out of the ground. Occassionally he had wandered deeper into the Arctic, driven by the alternating climate. He had come across this strange edifice, similar to other manmade outposts, but much further north than he had ever encountered before. But this place did not smell of danger, and the Man here never presented him any threat. Sometimes he even saw the Man when he came out, and he did not smell like a human, which were sometimes edible, as he knew from others of his kind. This Man sometimes came out of the edifice to watch him, and even was playful. The polar bear sometimes paused in his hunt for food to play-wrestle with the strange-smelling Man, and the bats from his paws never hurt him, surprisingly. The Man never made any attempt to harm him either.

He had never seen anyone else here except the strange blue-and-red Man, but this time, he saw a Woman come out with the Man. They stood outside the strange edifice for a moment, talking to each other. The polar bear watched them, surprised to see the two. Perhaps the Woman was the Man's mate? Something about the way they stood closely together, paws together, made the bear sure of it.

The Man caught the eye of the bear, and he waved to him, and somehow the bear realized he was waving goodbye. Then both the Man and Woman shot up straight into the sky, disappearing into the air, as if they were birds. The polar bear watched them for awhile, until they disappeared from view.

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**Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be a Batman-centric episode. Bats is doing some snooping.**

**Bonus points for you if you know significance of sphere-shaped room ;)**


	8. Chapter 2: Family History

**Chapter 2: Family History**

_Gotham City – Wayne Manor_

Alfred Pennyworth walked swiftly and silently down the opulent hallway leading to the library of Wayne Manor. He was dressed in his usual, impeccable dark suit, and carried a silver tea service in his white-gloved hands. As he walked his every movement demonstrated an unmistakable grace and dignity that any educated observer would recognize as marking a butler of the highest quality.

Alfred knew his employer's schedule precisely, and so knew that he usually took his mid-morning refreshment in the study or in the Batcave. However, today was the first time he could recall that he asked for it to be delivered to the library instead. Mr. Bruce Wayne typically did not spend his work or leisure time there, although he possessed one of the finest private libraries in the nation. Occasionally scholars from all over the world requested access to the Wayne Library, which possessed many rare first editions, and early books on science and history; however, such permission was rarely granted due to the billionaire's desire for privacy, which only enhanced his reputation as something of a recluse. Unfortunately, Mr. Wayne himself hardly seemed interested in the many priceless volumes he owned, which Alfred privately thought was a shame.

Perhaps, Alfred thought brightly, today marked a change for the better.

Alfred entered the library, a large and high-ceilinged room lined with massive bookcases, each one fully filled with volumes. Framed lithographs, antique maps, and oil portraits of long-dead Wayne family patriarchs adorned the creme-papered walls. Large leather chairs, ornate lamps and antique desks gave the room the air of a venerable university study.

Alfred looked around inquiringly, but at first he did not see him. He frowned, hoping that the young man had not gotten bored already and left. Sometimes Mr. Wayne had the decidedly annoying habit of abruptly changing his plans, and not informing him.

"Master Bruce?" Alfred called out, "I've brought your tea."

"Thanks, Alfred, can you set it down by the window?"

Alfred looked up and his heart gave a slight jump. Young Master Bruce, still clad in his dressing-gown, was balanced precariously on the top rung of a roll-ladder, straining to reach something on top of one of the tall bookcases. It was just out of the reach of his fingertips, but he kept straining for it.

"Oh! Master Bruce, do be careful!"

"I will, don't worry about…_ulp_!"

Just as Bruce's fingers snagged the box he was reaching for, his foot slipped off the ladder. He grabbed wildly at the rungs, but he lost his balance again and fell, landing awkwardly with a grunt atop a desk with its piles of books and papers, sending them flying amidst a cloud of dust rhinos.

"Oh dear! Master Bruce, are you all right?"

Alfred quickly set down the tray and hurried to Bruce's side, pulling out his silk handkerchief. He immediately began brushing away the thick dust rhinos from the handsome young man's clothes as he picked himself up with some embarrassment, wincing.

"I'm fine, Alfred, except for my dignity…oww!" He rubbed the small of his back. He'd probably find a bruise on his coccyx later.

"Yes, it would be quite the tragedy if you had broken your neck in such a fashion! I _do_ wish you'd have informed me first before you went on your climbing expedition, I could have properly retrieved the materials you needed, rather than see you pointlessly injured."

"I'm all right, Alfred." Bruce insisted.

"If you say so, sir. Might I inquire as to the nature of your explorations? Perhaps I may be of assistance."

But Bruce was already bending down to pick up the scattered books and papers off the floor, setting them back on the table, trying to put them in some sort of order.

"I'm just sorting through the old family documents. I'd remembered that there were these diaries and old journals that Mom and Dad kept up here."

Alfred's voice suddenly took on a lighter tone, as Bruce's new interest met with his approval.

"Ah yes, sir, the section reserved for the personal family papers. I'm pleased to see you are taking an interest in your illustrious family's history. As I recall, your father inherited from _his_ father a substantial amount of genealogical research concerning the Wayne family and its relations. Quite substantial!"

Alfred continued on a scholarly tone as Bruce continued to pick up all the dropped materials onto the desk.

"Yes, the Wayne family belonged to some of the oldest established families of New England, together with the Curwens, the Tillinghasts, the Carters, among others. They came to the New World from England, shortly after the Mayflower landing, and settled from Vermont to Massachusetts, down to the Carolinas, since the early 1600s. One branch of the Wayne family settled in Gotham at its founding. Your family and those other old families established many links with one other, dynastic marriages and the like, and of course became quite wealthy. Sadly, many of these ancient family lines have since become extinct."

"Is that right?" Bruce frowned at the enormous pile of dusty old books, boxes, and papers, barely hearing Alfred. This was going to be a challenge!

"Oh, yes. I'm afraid none of those old families were particularly fecund, including the Waynes," Alfred added pointedly, clearing his throat discreetly. "Now if you yourself, sir, were to continue with your family's legacy…"

"I remember coming in here once as a boy," Bruce interrupted, anticipating that Alfred was going to lecture him about settling down. Why did everyone think he was a playboy? And what was wrong with that, anyway? "Dad discouraged me from coming in here and mucking about with all this old stuff."

"You possess a valuable selection of papers, here sir, of much historical value, as well as the family history. Your father took quite an interest in genealogy himself. It's a popular hobby, as I understand, but it takes a great deal of time to conduct research, which he didn't have, as he had to attend to his businesses. He also said it was rather depressing, as I recall."

Bruce turned to Alfred in surprise. "Did he? Why did he say that?"

"Family history can uncover unpleasant details," Alfred explained. "Details that one might find embarrassing, or distasteful. I believe Mr. Wayne discovered that one ancestor was a hanging judge during the witch trials, and another was personally responsible for ordering several Native American massacres. Not everyone finds something to be proud of, sir."

"Is that right?" Bruce sighed and turned back to the messy pile on his desk. "I suppose I'll have to steel myself for some strange revelations, then."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. Bruce hadn't really explained exactly why he was going through these old papers, but it wasn't his place to pry…not just yet.

"Well…will there be anything else, Master Bruce? Do you wish my assistance?"

"Um, no, thank you Alfred…oh, and clear my schedule for today, please. I will be taking some time with this."

"Yes, sir. Ah, I should inform you that a reporter from the _Daily World_ has requested a meeting with you."

Bruce turned around sharply. "What? From that tabloid?"

Alfred's expression suggested that he found this type of media distasteful, at the least.

"Yes, a one 'Mr. Olsen.' He actually came here in person, right to the door, and had the temerity to leave his card! I said that you were unavailable, and would be so in the future."

Bruce frowned. Why this sudden interest? "That will be all, Alfred."

"Very good, sir." Alfred gave a crisp bow and left.

In truth, Bruce Wayne already suspected that the Wayne family had plenty of skeletons in its closet (what family didn't?) but the real reason he had decided to spend the day in here…

It began after he'd debriefed Superman and Wonder Woman following their strange experience in Smallville. Both had agreed that the creature they fought was called a _shoggoth_. Their story was that a college professor, one Dr. Will Richardson, the husband of Clark's old high school friend Lana, had named it such, and also that it was he who was responsible for its attack. It had dwelled beneath an abandoned building known locally as the Red House, perhaps originally summoned there by an old cult known as the Church of Starry Wisdom, which used to occupy the house in the 1920s. Somehow, this Dr. Richardson had learned about the building's history and the thing under it, and unleashed it, for purposes that weren't entirely clear, other than the fact that he was clearly insane. He had killed his wife and attacked Diana, stabbing her with a weapon of unknown power. Diana had killed him, but it was not clear whether or not she and Superman actually killed the _shoggoth_.

To add to the weirdness, one of Diana's Amazon people appeared out of the blue. Bruce remembered her, a sour-faced older woman who wasn't exactly overjoyed to learn that Diana had eloped with a one Clark Kent aka Superman. At the time Bruce himself had been unhappy with Clark and Diana, and told the Amazon (Gorgo was her name) where to find them in Smallville. Later, Bruce had regretted that, but it turned out to be a lifesaving decision. Gorgo had promptly gone to Smallville armed with some kind of mysterious and powerful weapon from Themyscira. She had intended to use it against Superman, but used it against the _shoggoth_ instead. It was the only thing able to apparently wound and discombobulate it. Clark, who was badly wounded by it, as was Diana, said he saw remnants of it streaming back towards the Red House, where it had disappeared.

He and Flash had arrived just after that. While Flash searched the surrounding area, he had gone to the devastated Red House, and its odd clock-tower, to look for it. He had thought he had seen something in there, but he couldn't be sure of what he had seen...shapes which clung to the high walls near the top, and changed colors and pulsated oddly, bizarre shapes that moved with intelligence, and made a strange buzzing noise...but then they had disappeared. Then, he couldn't even be sure he had actually seen anything, or be certain if it was the _shoggoth _itself. Flash had not found anything either. Gorgo was killed in the battle, so she wasn't able to shed any more light on the matter. Clark and Diana didn't know any more. They couldn't even say whether the _shoggoth_ was alien or some terrestrial monster.

While they recuperated, Bruce had done some investigating of his own. The police had searched Richardson's house and found nothing "suspicious." But he'd learned that some unknown government "officials" had gotten to Richardson's university office and confiscated certain materials. Through certain channels, Bruce knew it was not anyone from A.R.G.U.S.

Disquieting.

The police dismissed the whole event as a drug gang cooking meth in the Red House, and Richardson's family and the cops were caught up in the explosion. Bruce himself had helped create that scenario for the police; he preferred that explanation than civilians flipping out over…whatever it was. The _shoggoth_ had not reappeared.

He was disturbed by the whole story, and he knew that there was something more to it. He was sure that Superman and Wonder Woman had told him all they could. But that was not what unsettled him, that someone else might be snooping in on this story, nor the fact that during the same time period there had been an unexplained riot at Arkham Asylum, which had needed something stronger than water-cannons to put down. What unsettled him was the realization that he had heard the word _shoggoth_ before.

Bruce Wayne had an excellent memory, and while he had cause to curse it on occasion, it meant that he could easily recall names and places. He was certain he had heard, or read, the word _shoggoth _somewhere before, but where?

It did not come to him until after Superman and Wonder Woman had departed for the Fortress of Solitude the other day. Then he remembered.

It was here, in his own home, in this very library.

Once, when he was a boy, before the tragedy, he sometimes wandered into the library to play. Dad had kept all the family documents in here, all the old papers and journal and diaries he'd inherited from his own father, who apparently never threw anything away, including stuff which had belonged to all sorts of relatives, near and distant, in the name of 'family and historical relevancy.' Dad didn't want him damaging them, so he'd put them high up where he couldn't reach them. But before that, he'd searched for something fun to read. He had gone through some of these old books, first finding Jules Verne, Edgar Rice Burroughs, H.G. Wells (they had all the first editions). Then, he'd come across the journals of some distant relative who had written some very strange things…stories of adventures in strange lands, meeting strange beings, similar to those old fantasy novels, but different in some dark way. They seemed more real, and the way they were written suggested that these things had actually happened to him. He remembered asking Dad about them, but he only laughed and remarked that they had had lots of nutty relatives. He had never seen any of those old books again. But, he was certain he had come across the word _shoggoth_ in those books; the name suggested something from a nightmare. Could it be possible that someone had encountered that thing before? He had to find out and learn as much as possible, in case they encountered it again.

The problem was that none of this crap had ever been categorized in any order. It took Bruce a lot of time just to separate the letters from the journals from random newspaper clippings, from chapbooks and random miscellaneous pieces of paper. Most of it was absolutely useless: old advertisements from the 1920s, essays written by old spinster great-aunts on the evils of alcohol, jazz music, and dancing, mildewed old letters filled with nothing except boring business notations. Bruce made a note to himself to have Alfred donate some of this stuff to a historical society, since it wasn't doing any good here. Finally, after several fruitless hours, he thought he finally found what he was looking for.

It was an old leatherbound journal, its spine broken and peeling, but still somewhat intact. Inside, written on the initial page:

_Journal of Randolph Carter, Resident, Boston, Arkham. _

Somehow, he knew this was what he was looking for. There was a stack of them, dusty to the touch, with that particularly old smell, marked with the name Randolph Carter. The name was somehow familiar. Bruce had found one of his family's genealogical charts, and knew that this Randolph Carter was a second great-grandcousin, or something like that. The Carter family was distantly related to the Wayne family but it seemed like the Carter line had died out with this Randolph Carter.

Bruce opened the journal. The pages looked as if it had fallen out and were carelessly replaced. He tried to find dates and locate the word he was looking for. Another problem was that the journal was handwritten, in a fine thin script, back in a time when good cursive writing was considered a worthwhile skill (unlike today's texting mindset). This meant it wasn't exactly easy to read. He started from the beginning.

_June 18, 1924_

_It was on the return voyage from Egypt that I and my traveling companion, Etienne-Laurent de Marigny, experienced such a bizarre encounter that I fear none should believe us even as I submit it to this journal, I do so only that future generations might read this account, and others I have penned within…_

There was only a scrap of this page left. The next page seemed to come from a different year.

_May 10th, 1890_

_...and what man knows Kadath? I say I will one day journey past the plateau of Leng and thence to unknown Kadath itself! If anyone should ask me where Kadath is, I would reply, it is only in dreams that one should journey to the village of Ulthar and then inquire of the burgesses there..._

And the next page after that...there it was.

_...it was then that I saw a shoggoth for the first time, and it set me awake with much screaming. But I quickly recovered, and continued to make plans with my friend, Harley Warren, regarding his desire to explore a..._

Frustratingly, he didn't describe what he had seen (or dreamed) but Bruce continued to read the rest of the papers enclosed within the journal, hoping Carter might mention it again in detail. What he read captivated him, until the shadows lengthened in the vast library.

_August 11, 1919_

_My comrade and brother-in-arms, Etienne-Laurent de Marigny, recently received his honorable discharge from the Foreign Legion, and I remade his acquaintance as he took up a position as professor of anthropology at the Sorbonne. We had served together at the Battle of the Somme, where he personally won the the Croix de Guerre for destroying a German machine-gun emplacement. He also took me out of the barrage after I had been grievously wounded about the head, and brought me to a medical facility staffed by his countrymen, rather than leave me at the Canadian field-hospital, where a one Dr. West was later arraigned for certain egregious cases of malpractice, which I shudder to think that I may have become a victim of..._

Bruce spent the next few minutes excitedly reading this journal. It was exactly as he remembered, the journal reading as if it were an actual travelogue of fantastic and strange places. He searched for any more mention of the _shoggoth_, but although he was certain it came from these journals of this relative, he had to find the passage. The difficulty was that all so many of the pages had either been lost or misplaced, so that none of the dates seemed to be in order. Then, as before, he got caught up in reading. He came across this summer 1924 entry:

_We had booked passage on the SS Olney, a tramp steamer voyaging from Alexandria to Kingsport. The crew, excepting its captain, were a dissolute bunch, a mongrel mixture of polyglot sailors but due to our desire to avoid any attention following our exploits in the deserts near the Pyramids, it suited our purposes to be traveling in this manner. We were making good time, and the sea voyage had so far been uneventful until the night of... _(passage here smudged and unreadable)

_...Old Tom suddenly appeared in my cabin, and proceeded to deliver such a startling warning to me, that I fair was reluctant to believe it, but events soon proved his truthfulness. Then, de Marigny entered my cabin right after, saying that we had unexpectedly stopped, and he did not know the reason for it. We were in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea and not near any land, so there was no reason for us to stop. Together we proceeded to investigation the reason for this unexpected interruption..._(more smudged passages)

_...We were joined by young Joyner, the cabin boy, a lad of perhaps 12 or 13 years. He was understandably upset, and it was he who led us surreptitiously to the main deck, from which he himself had fled. Then, what should our eyes fall upon was a sight that would not seem out of place in the writings of de Sade. The ship's crew, were to a man, disporting themselves in a most base fashion with women who had certainly not been aboard prior to our departing Alexandria. These were beings of definitely human appearance, quite beautiful in the classical sense, yet their manner belied their humanity, as, bereft of any article of clothing whatsoever, they used this depraved and ancient lure to seduce the hapless crew, and were now engaged with them in acts of carnality which I shall not further describe. When I indignantly inquired of the cabin boy as to why the ship's captain had not prevented this from happening, the poor lad whimpered that it was the First Mate himself who had murdered the captain, knifing him in the back, when he had attempted to repel these unnatural women from boarding the ship. No doubt the degenerate First Mate had done so in order that he and his fellows might take bask in the attentions of these succubi, of which there can be no doubt as to what these beings were._

_My friend de Marigny was most outraged, and proposed some course of action by which we could stop this, but I had already observed that these women, if could be described as of the fairer sex, were most unnatural, and Joyner agreed with me, reporting to us that the crew from almost the beginning seemed to be swallowed up in a trance. I inquired as to how they had gained access to the ship and Joyner firmly stated that he had seen them appear as if out of nowhere, climbing aboard from boats with hooks and rope-ladders which they had secured alongside the steamer..._(missing half a page)

..._We might have been discovered by these foul creatures, for a few of them seemed to be always on the alert and watchful for such of the crew which might have escaped their seductions, if it were not for Old Tom, who led us by a way which we could evade them without being detected. We soon saw to our dismay that they had disabled the life raft, revealing no less as if they had proclaimed it aloud their dark purposes, once they had done with the crew. But Old Tom, the wily old gentleman, managed to create a diversion by which we were able to effect an escape by slipping over the side and appropriating one of the same longboats by which these sinister women approached the Olney. We cut the lines and made our departure, taking our chances on the open sea. Using methods I had learned in my dream-quests, I created a concealing fog by which we would not be seen by any of their lookouts. We had managed to take just enough food and fresh water with us so we could survive until reaching land._

_"Is there nothing that can be done for the poor devils?" de Marigny inquired of me once we were clear of the ship. For although the crew were of the dregs of humanity, neither of us wished to see them come to some foul end at the hands of such monsters._

_No sooner had my friend uttered those words, when we heard the most piteous cries and screams, intermixed with sailor's curses, coming from the direction of the doomed ship. A pious Catholic, he crossed himself, and uttering no mean oaths himself, wondered what had befallen the crew._

_I lifted a canvas net which lay over the bottom of our boat. It revealed exactly by which means the sailors had met their ends. Weapons, of an ancient Greek design, suchike not seen for 3,000 years, lay ready and sharpened for use. I then wondered as to the identity of these horrible creatures..._(torn page)

_After much privations we were picked up by a passing yacht and taken to the nearest port. de Marigny and I recovered quite readily but poor young Joyner, whose health was not good to begin with, succumbed to a fever picked up in hospital. As he had no family, we paid for his burial expenses and my friend paid for a Mass, since he subscribed to such beliefs. For myself, I blamed his death solidly on those violent and dissolute women, whom I am convinced have for many centuries plied the seas for fresh victims. Whatever I can do to curtail their mischief, I shall do without fail, and with retribution for..._

End of journal.

Even more disquieting.

Bruce had brought his laptop (the library was equipped with WiFi), and began a search on ships lost at sea, or ships with missing crews, beginning with the last century. He found actually very few hits, the most famous being the case of the Mary Celeste. He tapped into databases at the Library of Congress looking for dates that coincided with the date of the journal. He found an article from the _New York Times_, dated, July 25, 1924:

_Mysterious Disappearance of the Crew of the SS Olney!_

_Authorities discovered a tramp steamer adrift in the Mediterranean Sea. The SS Olney, which departed Cairo, Egypt, was destined for America with a cargo of Egyptian cotton, yet for unknown reasons, never made her port. The Olney had a crew of fifteen souls, but no living thing was found aboard by police, except for the ship's cat, affectionately listed in the Captain's Log as "Old Tom." No clue could be found as for the reasons for the vanished crew, and no adequate reason provided for her abandonment. Weather conditions were reported fair. A lifeboat was discovered missing, suggesting that at least some of the crew did in fact abandon ship. Investigations have so far been fruitless, and speculation of piracy may not be farfetched..._

'Old Tom' was the ship's _cat_? The fact that Carter wrote about having conversations with a feline was beyond strange. Perhaps Dad was right, and their ancestors were a bunch of nuts (no doubt continued on - he would most definitely include himself in that categorization), and perhaps this journal was just the rantings of a mentally ill man...if it weren't for the name of the _shoggoth_. But the other things he had uncovered...he couldn't just dismiss them. The disappearance of the _Olney_'s crew was not a figment of imagination, and although he could find no other mention of the _Olney_, Bruce collated his data and discovered that the incidents of vanished crews at sea seemed to follow certain peaks occurring at roughly three times during the past 100 years. Although he probably couldn't acquire the data, no doubt similar events had happened in the 1700s, 1600s...and further back.

Bruce quickly went through the remaining three or four journals. It seemed that Carter did not describe his adventure on the ill-fated ship in any more detail. He had to wait until the final journal to find the final reference.

_July 1, 1925_

_...de Marigny and I are convinced that the monstrous women that we encountered on the Olney may in fact not be succubi, but instead a remnant of a long-lost race of warrior women, once mentioned by Homer and the ancient Greeks. Perhaps this is how they maintain their numbers, through such modern-day horrors, just as their ancestors had done. If so, they will remain a threat to all humanity until discovered and eradicated. However, this is easier said than done, as we still possess no clue as to exactly where there present-day whereabouts may lie, but I suspect that I shall be able to deduce their location through my own methods. de Marigny wishes that I would desist, and perhaps I shall, if it were not for the immediate threat to the waking world. For now, I am still preoccupied with my quest for unknown Kadath, so such inquiries must await the future. However, I confided to my friend my fears that these women may also visit the waking world in disguise, perhaps for other nefarious purposes. de Marigny made researches of his own in the Sorbonne's extensive libraries and theorized that such creatures may be distinguished from normal women by scarifications upon their physical form. Although, he stated, it was a myth of the later Greeks that alleged the Amazons severed their left breast in order to draw the bow, they possibly did mark or scar themselves in that area to identify themselves, or prove that they had taken a human head..._

End of journal.

Bruce searched for the name Etienne-Laurent de Marigny. He was also not a figment of Carter's imagination but an actual former professor of Anthropology at the University of the Sorbonne. He died in 1946, a decorated member of the French Resistance and a World War I veteran, with nothing apparently out of the ordinary in his life. He searched for Randolph Carter. Much less information, other than supposedly deceased in 1928, left de Marigny as inheritor of his estate, contested by a cousin, one Aspinall, whom apparently was related to the Waynes on the maternal side. Carter was labeled deceased because he had vanished from his lodgings in Boston but his body was never found, but he was presumed dead. It was also presumed he suffered from some kind of mental illness in his later years, perhaps due to his war wound.

Bruce sat back in his high-backed chair, chin in hand, deep in thought, considering what he had just read. He sat there for a long time, thinking.

He thought about Diana.

Bruce had known Diana for years. He considered her a friend, and thought that she might think of him the same way. He was well-aware she could be violent to the point of killing (and had done so on more than occasion), and she had quite a temper when provoked. But he also knew she was devoted to the principles of the Justice League, devoted to her friends, and had a powerful sense of honor, loyalty, and justice. She was devoted to the ideals of helping people, and trying to make a better world for all, women and men.

She was also an Amazon.

A _princess_ of the Amazons. Other than that grim old lady he'd met, she was the only Amazon he had ever met. No one knew anything other of the Amazons other than what she told them. If what this journal suggested was true (and his great third cousin or whatever wasn't totally crazy), Diana came from a very dangerous gang, indeed. But, then, some part of him already knew that. But what part of her was which? How true was Carter's statement? His friend was going to Themyscira the day after tomorrow. What was he walking into? And how much did Diana know? If Carter's story was true as he'd described it, and Diana didn't know of this, it meant that there were things her own people kept from her. However, if she did know...and said nothing...

Alfred was only partially right, Bruce thought grimly, family history could not only be distasteful...it could be dangerous.

* * *

**Lots of name-dropping here ;) Looks like Bats is getting suspicious.**

**Thanks for reading and please review :D**

***Scene and names influenced by**

**WW #7 (New 52)**

**By Lovecraft:**

**The Statement of Randolph Carter**

**Through the Gates of the Silver Key**

**Herbert West - Reanimator (read it, watch the awesomely craptastic movie!)**


	9. Chapter 3: Departures

**Chapter 3: Departures**

_Watchtower _

Batman stood tall and imposingly, as he typically did, at the head of the long table in the Watchtower's main conference room, his intense scowl focused on his fellow Justice League members Flash and Cyborg. They were the only ones present at the morning briefing today, making him not particularly happy. But the other two members of the Justice League were used to his mercurial moods, and hardly took notice of it anymore.

"If your 'friends' want to become real members of the Justice League, that means they have to attend the 'boring meetings' too – all of them! They can't just show up for the fights," Bruce directed his words to Cyborg. "They better understand this isn't all just grins and giggles."

Victor threw up his metallic hands. "I get it, you don't have to tell me."

"You get it, but they obviously don't," Batman snapped. He turned his attention to Flash, who only shrugged.

"Arthur said he's coming," The red-costumed superhero said, "But he had to stay back in Anchor Bay for Mera's court date."

"Then he won't get here before Superman and Wonder Woman leave."

At the mention of that, both Cyborg and Flash saw a welcome opportunity to change the subject away from Batman's gripe. "Oh man, I wouldn't want to be in his boots," Cyborg joked, and Flash nodded knowingly.

Batman glanced at him sharply. "Why do you say that?"

Victor's one organic eye registered surprised –he didn't understand why Batman suddenly sounded suspicious.

"I just mean, he's going to meet his mother-in-law for the first time, and after the fact!"

Flash laughed. "And an _Amazon_ mother-in-law at that, hahaha!"

Victor joined in the laughter. "If she's anything like her daughter, he'd better watch out!"

"I hope that suit's reinforced where it counts!"

Batman looked distinctly irritated at their jocularity. "This isn't funny, you two. We're going to be two short for a long while. You better hope we don't have any big problems."

"Oh, the world's all one big problem! But they'll be coming back eventually. It's not like they're leaving for good." Flash was also a bit taken aback by Batman's grimmer-than-usual expression. Couldn't the guy ever lighten up?

Cyborg said, "It's not like they're quitting."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Flash kicked back in his chair. "These things happen. So Superman and Wonder Woman got married, big deal. They make a nice couple. Aquaman's been married for a lot longer and he's normal...sort of. They're having a kid, isn't that good news?"

"At least some people can," Cyborg muttered.

"Oh, hey, I didn't mean to-"

"Where are they now?" Batman demanded.

"Who?"

The dark knight gritted his teeth. "Superman and Wonder Woman!"

"He's in his quarters, sending out emails," Cyborg said.

"Probably farewell messages! I bet it'll be hard for him to type after Diana's mother breaks his hands for touching her daughter, and his Kryptonian, sun power, whatever won't be any good against some angry Greek immortal mother-in-law!"

"It ain't the only thing she'll probably break!"

The two friends began laughing uproariously again. Batman, however, wasn't quite as amused.

Superman could hear his colleagues laughing from where he sat in his quarters; he was doing exactly what Cyborg said he was. He would have felt like laughing along with them since a little levity would vastly help how he felt. He couldn't remember the last time he had so many butterflies in his stomach, now that the time had come. They were finally about to be on their way to Themyscira. He thought Diana could use some levity too - she was either pacing madly about the tiny room trying to remember if she was forgetting something, or advising him for the umpteenth time on even more Amazonian etiquette (he was sure he would forget everything the moment they arrived). They would also be bringing Gorgo's ashes back with them. Her urn was secured in a black tactical bag Bruce had procured for them. Every other time Diana looked at it, her eyes would start welling up, or she would go into a black mood. Clark wondered if that could be because of 'hormones' as well, but he hadn't quite worked up the courage to ask her.

On top of that, he was having a hard time emailing Jimmy Olsen. Jimmy's usual email address was kicking back his message, and he hadn't heard anything back from his work address. Clark wondered if he had changed it for some reason (probably avoiding some wrathful ex-girlfriend, or some pissed off celeb he'd snapped an unflattering picture of). Then Lois had sent him an email, just a short how-are-you-give-me-a-call-sometime message. Nothing about work or her personal life. Clark sent back an equally short message, just saying he hoped she was doing ok and that'd he'd be out of the country for awhile, but he'd stay in touch.

"What did your ex-girlfriend say?" Diana grumped, going through the backpack yet again; for some reason she had an irrational fear that the cremains would spill, even though the urn was sealed tight.

Clark sighed. "Diana, you know she's not my 'ex-girlfriend.' We didn't even date."

"Eh? What about her 'I Spent The Night With Superman' article? How you swept her off her feet and went flying over the city of Metropolis underneath the moonlight?"

Rao's Spheres, what was she going on about now? It had to be hormones. "That's what we call in the business a little 'journalistic license.'"

Diana began unzipping the pockets of the backpack, scowling as she went through each one. "So...then you_ didn't_ hold her tight in your arms, feeling her heatbeat against yours?"

Did she memorize that entire damn article? "For five minutes. Until she got motion sickness and threw up."

Diana paused in her backpack examination and looked at him, eyes wide. "She didn't!"

"Of course she left that part out."

"Were you not angry?"

Clark couldn't help but smile at the memory. "'Angry'? I was laughing so hard I almost dropped her! Diana, nothing happened! We just had a fun time. Lois was in love with the idea of Superman, not actually Superman the live sentient being. Certainly not Clark Kent. Besides," he muttered, "She's dating Tyresa Wallis now."

Now it was Diana's turn to laugh. "Is she? I have seen her! In the movie, _Titans Against Rome_! She played an Amazon!"

"Was her portrayal realistic?"

"As Lois's article!"

Clark turned to her, laughing now too. "Diana, what's wrong? Why are you asking about her all of a sudden?"

Diana's smiled dissipated somewhat. "Mother will have read that article, and others, too, everything that is written about the Justice League. She knows some English, now."

"Oh," Clark thought for a moment. "It can't all be bad. Once she sees me in person, I'm convinced I can show her I'm not a evil person."

Diana crossed over to where he sat. It seemed like she was trying to get something out, but couldn't quite find the right words. "Clark...my mother, she is a monarch. A real monarch, not like the ones here. For a long time, she has ruled. She wields true power, in Themyscira. It makes even the wisest and compassionate person a bit...something..."

"Crazy?"

Diana looked at him seriously. "But please do not call her that to her face!"

Clark took her hands. "Of course not! But I _will_ be honest with her. I won't lie to her about my feelings for you, and our marriage. She'll just have to accept that."

Diana squeezed his hands. "And if she won't?"

Clark was silent a moment. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there," he finally said. "Right now," he turned and shut off his computer. "Let's see if we can get Bruce to accept it."

* * *

When Superman and Wonder Woman finally appeared to the other Justice League members, Flash and Cyborg couldn't help but break out into spontaneous applause. Superman had taken care to make sure his Kryptonian armored suit was clean and spotless, his dark hair brushed back nearly from his forehead, while Diana not only wore her corselet, but over it she had added a long cloak of some shimmering white material that almost seemed to glow, with golden cords, and she wore a fearsome-looking Amazonian helmet, which made them both stare at it in awe.

"It looks just like from that movie, _Titans Against Rome_!" Flash said admiringly.

Diana couldn't help but grin herself. She took it off and handed it to him. He turned it over in his red-gloved hands, watching how it caught the light. It was rimmed with cobalt, and on its crown was a bird-of-prey. It looked like it should be in a museum, Cyborg said.

"How come you never wear it?" Flash asked.

"I don't need to. It's just for ceremony," Flash handed it back to her and she tucked it under her arm. "Also it is too cumbersome."

"Um, we have a little farewell brunch set up, if you want to eat something before you leave. Real food too!" Flash winked. "Bats even chipped in for doughnuts!"

Clark and Diana looked at each other. They were both ready and not ready to leave. "Yes, of course we will."

It was one of their rare, truly congenial moments together, and Superman couldn't help but wonder why it shouldn't always be like this. Even Batman seemed to be getting in the mood, although he seemed even more quiet and reserved than usual. Sooner than anyone really wanted, the party gradually wound down. Goodbyes and well-wishes were exchanged, and good-natured ribbing directed at Clark over mothers-in-law, while Diana winced. Then Flash and Cyborg focused on her. Clark realized that they were really trying to cheer her up, aware that she was nervous.

"You'll have to bring the baby so we can all check it out,"Flash said.

"He or she will have plenty of babysitters," Cyborg added, smiling.

"Thank you!" Diana felt a surge of relief, that they were so accepting. She hadn't expected that.

"I don't know about Batman though," he added. "He'd probably let Alfred take care of the baby!"

He then did such a good imitation of the British butler that all of them laughed. Clark looked over at Batman, to see if he had heard, but he had moved a bit away from the group, and didn't appear to have heard the joke. He intuited that Batman wanted to talk to him away from anyone else, so he walked over to join him.

He was right. "I need to ask you a question," Bruce said in a quiet voice. "But I need a promise from you first."

"What kind of promise?"

"That you won't punch me all the way to Gotham City when you hear the question."

Clark smiled, thinking Bruce was just joking like the others. "That would certainly cause a pressurization problem! What is it?"

Bruce asked calmly: "Does Diana have any scars?"

Clark stared at him for a second, taken aback. _What?_ "No…you can tell she doesn't."

Batman wasn't finished. "No, I mean scars that can't be usually seen, any...marks, where it could be concealed under her clothing."

"If you're asking me if she has my house sigil tattooed on her ass, no she doesn't. She doesn't have any scars," Clark said, a bit testily. "Why don't you ask her?"

"You know she'd take it the wrong way coming from me."

Clark was about to ask what way _he_ was supposed to take it, when suddenly Bruce laughed (laughed!) disarmingly. The sight of the Batman laughing startled him so much that he almost forgot the strangeness of his question.

"Perhaps it would be best if you never mentioned this to Diana, right, Superman?" Batman extended his hand to Clark. "She's got a lot on her mind already, I'm sure. Have a good trip, Kal-el."

Clark took his hand numbly, unnerved by Batman's uncharacteristic behavior. "Um…yeah...thanks, Bruce."

"Just one more thing: be careful, Clark," Batman added in a low voice, so that only Clark could hear. "Diana's one thing – the Amazons are another."

Then he turned and walked away to say goodbye to Diana. Clark watched him for a moment, confused. What was he up to?

Then, it was finally time for them to leave. They all walked to the transport together.

"Take care Diana," Batman said, as they stepped into the transport. He handed them the black backpack containing Gorgo's urn.

"Thank you everyone," Superman said gratefully. "We'll be back as soon as we can."

"Don't worry, we got it," Victor said. "You two take care of each other."

"Oh, Bruce," Diana took something from out of the backpack and tossed it to the black-caped superhero. He caught it instinctively in his gloved hand.

"Nice try."

Then they were gone.

Flash and Cyborg came over to look at what Batman held in his hand. It was a tiny metallic sphere, so tiny that was barely visible against his black palm. It was a tracking device.

Flash was curious. "What were you trying to do? Find out where Themyscira is? You thinking about taking a vacation there too?"

"I guess Superman can take care of himself, can't he?" Cyborg said. "After all, he is Superman. What can they do?"

"I don't know," Batman muttered. "And that's the problem."

"So what now?"

"Plan B." Batman replied.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Our heroes are finally on their way to Paradise Island. What is Batman up to? Stay tuned! **

**Next chapter will be Lois Lane-centric. She will be a bit of comic relief in this story. Not so much horror yet, but it will gradually, slowly seep in...**

**As always, please review!**


	10. Chapter 4: One Final Family Dinner

**Chapter 4: One Final Family Dinner**

_Reston, Virginia_

Since she would be leaving on her new assignment in a few short weeks, Lois Lane reluctantly accepted her parents' dinner invitation (it could no longer be avoided) at their spacious three-story home in one of Washington D.C.'s better suburbs. Her father, U.S. Army General Sam Lane, was currently stationed at the Pentagon, doing something "classified as usual," according to her mother Ellen, who, as a general officer's wife, herself had an "unofficial-official" job as his head of family morale. It was one of those unwritten American military traditions for the wives (and they were still mostly the wives) to band together and form self-help associations, whether in the form of volunteer groups or other supportive organizations, and the higher-ranking the spouse's husband (or wife) was, the more responsibility she usually had. Therefore, Ellen Lane served as the adviser to both the enlisted and officers' wives family support groups, was the current Chairperson of the Hobby and Crafts Club on base, and also volunteered for at least half dozen other activities on the local army base. She enthusiastically played this kind of role ever since she'd married Sam Lane, soon after his graduation from West Point. This was all in addition to her other full-time job, trying to raise a headstrong and tomboyish girl singlehandedly while her husband was often deployed or otherwise away on a mission for weeks or months at a time.

Lois had grown up moving from place to place; as an "army brat" she'd learned from an early age that her father's primary responsibility would be to his job, with his family coming in second. She had always had a love/hate relationship with her parents because of this reality, unaware that many people in similar situations had the same feelings, and like them had grown up and become self-sufficient at a young age than most kids. Her own style of rebellion was to become a journalist, speaking "truth to power" as she put it, even if now that "truth" mostly consisted of exposing who really had plastic surgery and lied about it. But with this new project of hers, Lois' mind was surging in other, exciting new directions.

Ellen (who would have been more at home in the 1950s, Lois suspected) always tried to maintain at least the illusion of normality, even in the most abnormal situations, which were rather frequent in her family, Lois recalled. This was a skill Ellen had developed as a result of dealing with military bureaucracies that often made the military wife's life a hardship. But Lois thought that it was also her mom's way of conveniently avoiding reality, especially when it came to her only child and her unpredictable behavior. Lois knew without doubt that her parents were in their own way vastly relieved when she'd moved away from home, first to college, then to Metropolis, even while at the same time her mother chided her for not coming home more. Of course she wouldn't admit to the fact that they still tended to treat her like a wayward teenager than the adult professional woman she was. Also the fact that she was still unmarried, and likely to stay that way.

At least they had somehow accepted the fact that she was a lesbian, although Lois knew that was only because they were still in denial.

"Your father and I are so happy that you're finally home," Ellen was saying brightly (of course with that implicit criticism that she didn't come home enough – Lois always caught it). "We hardly ever get a chance to see you! But being editor-in-chief must keep you on your toes." Lois got the impression that she thought her daughter's sexual orientation was somehow a requirement of her job, which she had to adopt for the time-being.

Lois stabbed forcefully at her Cobb salad. "Yes it does, Mom. How are you and Dad?"

"Oh, I'm still keeping busy as always! I've got great news! I've just been elected national President of the American Officer's Christian Women's Fellowship. We're having our national conference next month. It would be great if your paper could cover the event!"

Lois wondered if her women's group really wanted their new President's gay daughter showing up at their event. She glanced at her Dad, who seemed to be concentrating all his attention on his butternut squash soup. Her mom sometimes seemed to confuse the _Daily World_ with _People_ magazine.

"How's your friend Tyresa?" Ellen continued in her yes-everything-is-perfectly-normal-why-do-you-ask voice.

Lois saw how her Dad flinched at Mom's use of the word 'friend' to describe her partner. "Tyresa's fine. She's in Morocco, shooting the sequel for _Titans Against Rome_."

Her father finally looked up from his soup. "The sequel? How can she be in the sequel if she died at the end of the movie?" He sounded, as usual, as if he was ready to start an argument over nothing.

"Oh Sam, they can do anything in Hollyweird!" Ellen laughed. She hadn't seen the movie herself since she hated R-rated violent movies; Ellen Lane preferred romantic comedies and Pixar. General Lane just grunted and went back to slurping up his soup. "How's that young Clark doing?"

Lois tensed, not the first or last time since she'd arrived home. "He's...fine, Mom. Did I tell you he got married?"

Ellen's face fell, just as Lois expected. "Oh. No, you didn't. That's...so nice for him."

General Lane made some noise, and Ellen glared at him. Lois forked a leaf of Romaine and a half baby tomato into her mouth, trying not to smirk. She remembered the one time she'd invited Clark home to her parents' house for Thanksgiving dinner, since she felt sorry for him because he wasn't going home to Smallville that year. Her parents had behaved, in her modest opinion, like total mental patients; her mom had fallen head over heels for Clark at first sight and assumed Lois's bringing him home meant that she and Clark were practically engaged and were only postponing the happy nuptial day because they couldn't decide on the color of the wedding invitations, while her father had to act his asinine macho-dad routine as if she was still sixteen, and made a show of cleaning his sidearm as Clark walked in the door. ("Gotta keep your weapons in top shape all the time, for any reason, ho ho ho!") It became painfully evident that Ellen Lane couldn't imagine a more perfect son-in-law candidate than Clark Kent, while her dad wasn't as enthralled, since although Clark played high school football, he never went for a scholarship, and wasn't into NASCAR or hunting or golf, her dad's favorite pastimes. Lois was mortified the entire visit, and poor Clark looked terrified of both her parents, for good reason.

"You're looking really good, Lois," Ellen continued on another topic, trying to make some pleasant conversation, again. "It looks like you've been at the gym!"

"Yes, I have," Lois continued poking with her salad fork. "I ran my first marathon last week in Metropolis. I didn't place but at least I finished."

"You have! I never thought you'd be so much on a fitness kick!" Ellen exclaimed. "Is there any special reason for all this?"

"Well, kind of. I do have an announcement," Lois said, and immediately she saw her parents stop eating and brace themselves for what she was about to say, just like when she'd announced to them that she was a lesbian. No doubt, she thought with a sudden vindictive glee, they expected some other horrific announcement, like she was getting a sex change! "I'll traveling to Paradise Island later this month."

For a moment both Ellen and Sam Lane just stared at her, blankly.

"You're going to the Bahamas? At this time of year? What about your job?" Ellen said, puzzled.

"No, Ellen, our daughter means Wonder Woman's island, the place she came from" General Lane said, and he looked aggravated, his usual expression. "What on earth are you going there for?"

"I'll be the first journalist ever to go to Themyscira," Lois said proudly. This was exactly how she'd expected her parents to react. "I'll be there for several weeks at least, talking to the Amazons and living how they do."

"Wait a minute - I thought this Wonder Woman and the Amazons were some kind of media hoax, but you mean it's true?" Ellen looked flabbergasted.

"Of course it's true!" General Lane snapped. "Lois, do you know what you're doing?"

"What _am_ I doing, Dad?" Lois glared at him. "You tell me."

"Colonel Steve Trevor was the only person who was there, and they almost killed him! We don't know anything about this 'Paradise Island.' I read his report. It doesn't sound like a paradise to me!" He snorted.

"Because he's a man," Lois replied. "I'm not! I was _invited_. And he's no longer the only person ever there. They've been inviting small groups of women to see how they live, to create ties. They want us to come there, see for ourselves."

"But why, Lois?" Ellen cried. "Is it safe? Some isolated country, who knows what kind of…what kind of _diseases_ they may have there? Do you know what shots you must get? Did you talk to a doctor?"

Lois took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. "Mom, there aren't any 'diseases' there! I'll be fine. It'll be safer than when I went to Afghanistan. It's probably safer than here!"

"Oh, I couldn't sleep for weeks when you were gone to that awful place!" Ellen stared intensely at her husband, as if he could talk their daughter out of this. "Sam, say something!"

"Ellen, she's a grown woman, she can do what she wants. But Lois, I should think that you would consider your parents when you pull these kinds of publicity stunts." General Lane complained.

"What are you talking about?" Lois gritted her teeth.

"Lois, you know very well your father is responsible for the Pentagon's new department dealing with…with _unusual_ circumstances. This is a very sensitive time for him!"

"The Amazons aren't aliens, Mom, I don't see why this has anything to do with Dad's job," Lois said.

"The Amazons are trying to hide something, why else would they keep hidden, and just send Wonder Woman here?" General Lane said. "We don't know how dangerous they really could be-"

"Lois, I don't know what you think you are trying to accomplish with all this, but we wish you'd think of something else than just the next headline," Ellen wrung her hands, interrupting her husband. "You could be placing yourself in terrible danger! What if they think you're some kind of spy for the military?"

"I will not be in danger," Lois made one last attempt to stay calm. "I can take care of myself when I'm there. You asked me why I'm working out, so now you know!"

"You're trying to be tough like Wonder Woman?" General Lane now sniffed in disbelief. "Lois, do you think you're going to Amazon boot camp? Hell, you couldn't make it through _Air Force_ boot camp! They're going to eat you alive, and then I'll be the one having to bail you out, as usual!"

"Oh, Lois, can't you reconsider-"

Lois leapt up from the table, tossing her napkin down. "I'm done!"

"Lois, where are you going?" Ellen called out.

"To my room!" Lois shouted. "Since you insist on treating me like a teenager!" Lois stomped out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her old bedroom while her mother fluttered and her father rolled his eyes.

"This is all your fault, I hope you know, General Sam Lane!" Lois heard her mother accuse her father.

"Me?!"

"Yes, you! If you haven't driven off that nice young Mr. Kent, who knows what might have happened, Lois could have been settled down by now, she'd still be working at the _Planet_ and not writing about idiot pop stars! We could even have had a grandchild or two by now…and now look what she's doing, she's still traipsing all over the world, and now to this… Amazon country, whatever it is…have you thought about the fact that your daughter could get killed by those crazy people?"

"Lois can take care of herself! And that Kent boy was a fag!" General Lane shouted back. "I knew it the moment he walked through the front door! Why do you think he didn't marry Lois?"

"Just _what_ on earth are you talking about, Sam?"

Lois could hear her father's voice turn bitter and accusing. "Why didn't he grab Lois when he had the chance? Hell, who wouldn't want to marry her, there's nothing wrong with her. She's young, good-looking, intelligent, talented, and hell, you practically _threw_ Lois at him! He ignored her the whole time he was under our roof!"

"I did _not_ throw Lois at him, and how could he pay any attention to Lois when you were hovering over him the entire time!"

"It's _his_ fault Lois is doing this whole dyke thing! He probably talked her into it! And if I ever see him again he'll wish he'd never been born!"

"Sam Walters Lane, I wonder if you can even hear the...the _shit_ that comes out of your mouth sometimes!" Lois knew her mom had to really be mad if she used an actual swear word. "Clark did not turn our daughter gay, she was born that way…"

"Oh that's a load of horseshit, Ellen! This is just a fad she's picked up from losers like Kent, it's no different from the time when she was fourteen, remember, and took it in her head to walk around dressed like a vampire every day…"

"Really, I don't know how you managed to pin on even _one_ star with your addled brain! And you better not let our daughter hear you talking like that, using those awful words! Or anyone else for that matter, it'll be more than your career is worth! Really, I don't know how I ended up married to you!"

"By saying two little words!"

Lois heard no more after that, since she grabbed her pillow, smushed it down on her head and the blessed, silent darkness took over. Ever since she could remember her parents always fought like cats and dogs, and it was an absolute mystery to her as to how they managed to stay married for nearly thirty years. Perhaps it was because there was no one else on the planet who would be willing to put up with their drama!

After awhile, Lois got up from her bed and picked up her phone, checking her emails. The sounds from downstairs had stopped, so maybe her parents had finally had run out of hot air to scream at each other with. She scrolled down her incoming messages. When she saw an email from Clark, she ignored the other unopened emails and clicked on his.

_Hi Lois, I hope all is well with you. Jimmy said you were really busy these days. __I'm doing fine, so please don't worry about me. I'll be out of the country soon, visiting my wife's family for the first time. They live in a remote area of Greece and they probably don't have any connectivity where they live so you may not hear from me from a couple of months at least. But I promise to keep in touch._

_Clark_

Lois re-read the message, wondering if Clark was trying to tell her something between the lines. He could be so puzzlingly enigmatic at times. Over the years Lois had gradually come to suspect that he was hiding something from her, and there was another thing. He didn't really act like the typical small-town ex-high school jock, she knew. At one time, she thought he was pining for her, but she had done her best, without being rude, to let him know that she wasn't interested in him as a boyfriend. Still, she'd never seen him with any other girls. Jimmy had told her he never brought girls back to the apartment, and seemed uptight when he did. At one time both she and Jimmy actually did wonder if Clark maybe was...well...

Lois absolutely refused to believe her father could be right about Clark's sexual orientation (or anything else, for that matter). Then, Clark had gotten married. At the time, she was still mad and not speaking to him after he'd all but called her a sellout for working for the _Daily World_. So she didn't expect to receive any happy wedding or honeymoon photos. But Jimmy had always kept in touch with him, and he'd confided to her that he'd hadn't gotten anything like that either. Clark had returned to Smallville, and left after only a few months, minus the farm. Jimmy suspected that maybe his new wife was treating him like crap. Lois now couldn't help but worry this mystery woman, 'Diana Prince' was taking advantage of Clark. Maybe she'd convinced him to sell his family farm and hand over to her the proceeds. Maybe she was using him to get a green card, too! Now, he was going to live with her family; Lois wondered if maybe this was also part of the woman's scheme, to get him to financially support her whole family, or take them to America. She only hoped that Clark hadn't made the ultimate mistake, and gotten her knocked up. Then he'd have to support this bitch for life!

Lois sighed, tossing the phone aside on the bed. She didn't like secrets, and it was one of the delights she had to expose a secret whether it was in the news or elsewhere. She'd really wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, but there just wasn't enough time for her to look into it, before she would travel to Themyscira. Lois had plans to unravel the mysteries of Paradise Island, and this would no doubt be the biggest scoop of her life to date. Smallville would just have to wait until she was done before she could rescue him, that is, if he hadn't dug himself into a bigger hole than he already had!

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I swear there was an episode or issue of WW where Lois Lane did actually travel to Paradise Island, but I don't know what happened, whether she joined the Amazons or just made an ass of herself, as she tends to do sometimes. We won't see Lois again until after a few more chapters, but she is going to get quite the eye-opener once she gets to Themyscira and meets Queen Hippolyta. But she will get a big ,BIG surprise.**

**Please review!**


	11. Chapter 5: Homecoming

**Chapter 5: Homecoming**

Superman sat with his back resting against a pair of big sandstone boulders in a grassy upland, about a mile or so away from the shore, his red cloak wrapped about him, with the black bag containing Gorgo's ashes between his feet. He could hear the waves crashing regularly against the distant beach, the cawing of seagulls, and strange insects buzzing. He was alone.

He and Diana had begun their journey from the mountaintop of some unnamed island in the Caribbean, although she'd told him that Themyscira was not near any actual geographic location on Earth. She tied one end of her lasso around his waist, and held onto the other, and then they had flown off. They flew south-eastwards for a while, and then Clark saw the massive anvil of a thundercloud looming ahead of them on the horizon. Diana headed straight into it. After a few minutes in the dark clouds, he realized he couldn't see anything, which surprised and unnerved him, but he heard Diana shout something in her native language, which he couldn't make out clearly. Then, the sky had suddenly cleared and then once again they were in the bright sunshine with a clear blue sea under them, and fast approaching a faint speck of green and brown and white. Diana swiftly sped down towards it, Clark following close behind.

Clark thought they would immediately land in the capital city, but instead Diana had dropped in low flying over the beaches and they landed on the grassy earth past the sandy shore. She knelt on the ground momentarily, grasping the ground with both hands, breathing in deeply of the cool, crisp air. She stood up, looked at him and smiled, spreading her arms.

"Welcome to my home. Themyscira!"

Clark laughed, embracing Diana. He was amazed at the scenic beauty around him, and the air was so fresh and clean! His natural curiosity urged him to go exploring right away, but as if sensing what was on his mind, Diana grasped his wrist and told him to stay of sight.

He was stunned. "What? Why?"

"I just have to do something before we head into the city, and I don't want anyone to run into you before then. My sisters regularly patrol the coasts should stray men wash up on the shore."

"I could be a 'stray man' then?" Clark grinned, but Diana slapped his hands away.

"Here," she shoved the backpack in his arms instead, ignoring his confusion. "Go over there and hide by those rocks. I will be back soon!"

Like that, she had disappeared. That had been nearly an hour ago, and he was starting to get worried. He had tried to listen out for her, but to his dismay he couldn't hear her, or any other sounds, for that matter, other than the wildlife nearby. There seemed to a curious dampening effect here, preventing him from hearing any sounds he normally could, such as motor vehicles, crowds, machinery. He wondered how far away they actually were from anything. But where the hell had she gone?

He was starting to nod off in sleep when he heard the sound of a horse, the pounding of horses' hooves. Oh no, perhaps it was one of the patrolling Amazons! He darted behind the rocks, although they provided not much cover. Suddenly he realized he'd left the bag, and cursed to himself, it would be seen. He lunged for it, just as a gray horse thundered into view, its rider yipping at him. Clark rolled out of the way of its flailing hooves, but found himself pinned to the ground as his cape was transfixed by a thrown sword.

Startled, Clark looked up, thinking he'd have to come up very fast with some kind of believable excuse for his presence, then he saw Diana leaping from the back of the snorting gray mare. She looked delighted and she pulled her sword free.

"Clark!" She laughed. "Come, meet Grey Eyes!"

A bit taken aback, Clark brushed himself off and approached the animal, which had to be at least 17 hands. Being from a farm country, he was familiar with horses. He reached out a hand for it to sniff, but it tried to snap at him. "Um, I don't think she likes me."

"She is a wild horse. We have many such herds on this island."

"Why did you go to find one?" Clark saw that she had used her lasso as an improvised bridle and rein.

"To see if I still had my _hippeia_," Diana said seriously. "My mastery of horses."

"I don't understand."

Diana gently stroked the gray horse on her withers. "We were...are horsewomen. That was part of our strength and identity in the old days. It still is, in a way. Every Amazon is taught to ride at an early age, and tame horses. It is said that if we lose this skill...it is an evil omen..."

"You've ridden horses before, I've seen you, in Smallville."

"This is a wild Themysciran horse!" Diana smiled at Clark, then she vaulted onto the horse's back. "This is the only way to enter the city!" She extended an arm to him. "Come, you shall ride behind me. Be brave!"

Tentatively, Clark picked up the pack and got on the horse behind Diana, holding onto her waist as she tsked and they rode off.

There did not seem to be any roads, even dirt ones, and it seemed that Diana navigated by memory; of course, Clark thought, she would know every inch of this island, probably. Diana took advantage of the leisurely ride to instruct Clark (again) on Amazonian customs.

"The most unusual sight you will encounter," she said. "Will be the sight of our sisters unclothed. We are not as...we have a different interpretation of modesty. You will see Amazons without the top, or with one breast exposed, and we train naked as the ancient Greeks did, but not always..."

Clark wondered if he should mention that he and the other guys in the League had often discussed exactly those customs and what they were like during times when Diana wasn't within earshot, but thought better of it.

"I understand, I won't look at your sisters at all."

"No!" Diana was alarmed. "If you avert your gaze they will assume you believe they are shameful and will take offense."

"OK. Then I'll look all the time then."

"No! Do not stare, they will find a man just staring at them offensive also."

"OK. I'll look but not look."

Diana turned to stare at him but Clark kept his face carefully straight. "Just...lower your gaze slightly. That...should be fine."

Clark sighed. "Anything else?"

Diana was silent for a moment. "Just...have patience. When Steve was here, it was very...hard for him. He was not treated kindly," She looked over her shoulder at him again, and her expression was one of distinct apprehension. "There are some things I cannot explain to you, even in Themysciran words. You just have to...see them, experience them for yourself. Do you understand?"

"I do."

At some point, Clark realized, they had both shifted into speaking Themysciran. He supposed he would speak in this language the entire time they were here. He was nearly fluent in it now, but there were still things he didn't quite have down yet, the nuances and ways they accented certain words. He knew that the way an Amazon could say 'sister' indicated whether that meant a biological sister, a friend, a war-comrade, or a lover. So he knew he still had alot to learn. But something about Diana's manner suggested that she was uncomfortable about something else.

"While you are here, you will hear the word _netome _often, directed at you. Do you know what it means?"

Clark thought a moment. "I remember, it means 'something new, different.'"

"It also means an evil thing. All men are _netome, _as is almost everything from your world."

_Your world._

Clark kissed Diana on the nape of her neck, gently brushing her hair out of the way. More than anything, he wanted to reassure her. "You don't still think of me like that, do you?"

She reached behind her and squeezed his hand. "I never did."

Clark hugged her tightly. "I promise...I'll be patient."

"Good. Because we're almost there!"

Diana made only the slightest twitch of her thighs, and the gray horse burst into a gallop. They broke out of the forest, and the brilliantly colored pillars and buildings of Themyscira's capital arose before them.

* * *

From an alcove away from the audience room, Queen Hippolyta sat on a ledge and watched Diana's procession down the main avenue from a open slot window, which gave her an excellent view of the street below without the ability to be seen. She saw her daughter Diana clearly, and also the man sitting behind her on the gray horse. She saw immediately how Diana could be attracted to him. He looked young and strong and extremely handsome, his dark hair swept back from his forehead. He was clad in a costume of dark blue adorned with a strange serpentine emblem on his broad chest, a scarlet cape flowing over his back. He was gazing around him with boundless curiosity, taking in all the sights as if he was a child. The Amazons came rushing from all directions to see this distinctly rare appearance of a man in their city, and their Princess whom they had not seen in years.

Hippolyta recalled the last time a man had appeared in their city. It was six, (no, could it really be seven?) years ago, when they had seen the flaming airship crash onto their island. She remembered Diana impulsively going to investigate alone; the High Council had hardly had time to convene when Diana came riding back in triumph with her prisoner, a tall blonde man tied on a rope behind her horse. What was his name...yes, Trevor, that was his it. He looked like the soldier with his close-cropped hair and uniform, but just like this new man, he had been fascinated by his surroundings, despite the fact that his hands were tied and that a crowd of hostile and angry women were flinging rocks and dung at him.

But how much had times changed since then, although it seemed like only yesterday! This man was riding behind her, not led like a captive on a leash, and while Trevor's fascination had been mixed in with some fear at his circumstances, Hippolyta saw no fear on the face of this man. The Amazons also were not flinging filth at him, possibly because they didn't want to hit their princess, but the crowd this time seemed more curious than angry, and they were mostly quiet as they stared, although Hippolyta caught a few curses and cries of _netome _but they were few and came from the back of the crowd. Some Amazons cheered and cried out to their Princess, which she acknowledged; perhaps they thought this man was yet another captive.

But what struck the Queen most of all was Diana. She looked so confident, self-assured…so...adult. She seemed not uncomfortable in the least in the proximity of the man behind her; in fact, she looked quite relaxed in his presence. The man also seemed quite at ease, and Hippolyta saw them exchange glances at each other, just briefly, but their smiles, and their body language all clearly revealed a passionate and comfortable intimacy with one another, born of experience.

_Hmm_, Hippolyta thought. _Perhaps I was too hasty in suggesting to Diana that I might have this 'Superman' flayed. Perhaps a slow impalement is called for instead._

"Only say the word, my Queen," boomed a rich, deep voice behind her. "And it shall be done."

Hippolyta turned to see General Philippus standing behind her, clad in her armor and her helmet tucked under one arm. The ebony woman was one of her oldest and closest friends. She laughed warmly, a contrast to the other's sour expression.

"Dear Philippus, you know my mind as well as I do!"

Philippus crossed over to the window and peered out with Hippolyta at the scene below the palace.

"What think you of Diana's 'guest'?"

Philippus frowned. "Hmph. A big bastard. If he chooses to cause mischief he could be very dangerous indeed, if Gorgo spoke true. I wish you had not decided to allow him here."

Hippolyta well knew that she and Gorgo had been close. Those two were the most conservative in their thinking among the Amazons. It didn't escape her notice that her Master of Horse wore the black cloak of mourning still for her old friend.

Hippolyta shrugged. "Diana insisted upon it, she vouched for his honor."

"No man has true honor!"

"Ah, dear friend, but you forget, this is no ordinary man! Diana claims he is from the stars, and is endowed far beyond the poor varieties of Man's World. He flies, his strength surpasses any ordinary man's, he has the power of sending fire and ice onto his enemies."

Philippus looked alarmed. "If so, then he is even more of a threat! Please, Hippolyta, reconsider! Allow my guards and I to test the powers of this 'Superman.' He cannot prevail against all the Guard, armed with the weapons from the Sacred Armory."

Hippolyta smiled. "Ah, but I have given my word to Diana, too. No, Philippus, we shall not offer him violence, his first day here. Instead, we shall give him hospitality. Present him with food and drink, and water to bathe in if he wishes."

Philippus shook her dark braids in consternation. "Oh, Hippolyta!"

"I'm surprised at you, old friend!" The Amazon Queen turned back to the window. "Have you forgotten the old wisdom," her smile turned wintry. "That it is easier to trap a wasp with honey, than with vinegar."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! I seem to be on a roll right now with typing. The Amazon customs are taken from Steven Pressfield's great book "Last of the Amazons." What does the Queen have planned for Clark? How will she take Diana's revelation? Why did Lois Lane get picked to go to Themyscira? Will she dump Tyresa for one of the Amazons? When will the horror (other than mother-in-law horror)** **start?**

**All these will be revealed in the upcoming chapters! Please review as always your reviews are appreciated!**


	12. Chapter 6: The Queen's Audience

**[Story warning - adult language ahead - think that Spartacus show on Showtime!]**

**Chapter 6: The Queen's Audience**

Clark's eyes widened as he saw the Amazon capital, spread out against the backdrop of the sea on its the gently sloping hills. It was just like illustrations of Greco-Roman cities he'd once read about in in books and seen in old Hollywood movies; well, not quite exactly like them, since this was real and not made up of fake backlot sets, and he could see that the capital wasn't made of plain white marble, but instead its buildings were painted in many vivid colors. They weren't the tallest buildings or the most architecturally modern, but were constructed to be beautiful and pleasing to the eye, rather than coldly commercial and industrial like in modern cities. They were still some distance away, but he could see the outlines of many different types of structures.

"Diana, that's incredible! What kind of buildings are those?"

Diana heard the excitement in his voice and couldn't help but share in it, even though it was nothing new to her; it helped to push away her anxiety which grew, the closer they approached the Themysciran capital.

"They serve many purposes. There are gymnasiums and baths, and temples to our deities. We have theaters and stadiums and houses, just the same as your cities have. There is a an open-air marketplace in the center of the city, but our economy is based on barter, not currency. That one there," she pointed to the top of the largest hill, where a grand edifice stood majestically. "That building is the Palace. It is where my mother lives, and where the High Council meets to debate important matters. Gorgo was one of its members. Anyone can speak to the Queen, or submit a petition and address the Council on any matter. Anyone may debate and speak their mind in the agora below the palace."

"Anyone?"

Diana looked at him again, warily. "_Almost_ anyone."

"Will I be able to meet any of your people?" Despite what he had heard, Clark found himself eager to talk to the other Amazons here.

"That will be up to my mother," Diana muttered. "I'm sure she'll want to have words with you first, and perhaps the High Council, if only to hear of how Gorgo died."

Clark didn't reply, but continued to stare at the city in wonder, the grey horse under them obediently plodding along. As they neared the city's outskirts, Clark saw a few Amazons, traveling to and from the city on foot and on horseback, on a level and tightly-packed dirt road which extended in the opposite direction. Diana reined in her horse, just before they would be noticed.

Clark touched his wife's shoulder. "Why have we stopped?"

He saw then that Diana had a certain look on her face, the same expression she had when going into battle and couldn't be sure if she would return. She reached down and squeezed his hand again. "You are prepared to face my mother?"

"Yes. I am," Clark tried to sound cheerful. "It couldn't be any worse than meeting Lois's parents!"

He vividly remembered the Thanksgiving he had spent with Lois and her parents. As soon as he'd walked into their house, he could tell that Lois' mother immediately was visualizing little black-haired cerulean-eyed grandkids; he was more dismayed to learn that Lois' father was General Lane, of whom he had no doubt that the man wanted to see Superman laid out on a dissection table if he and his soldiers could get their hands on him. But at the time it looked like he might settle for Clark Kent instead, not only for 'courting' Lois (he wasn't) but also for not showing enough respect for the NASCAR shrine in his garage, and his gun collection. The only saving event of that visit had been the excellent turkey, and seeing Lois embarrassed. Somehow thinking of that reassured him that he could cope with Diana's mother.

Diana eyed him suspiciously. "You are not a good liar, Clark. But I will be beside you so you mustn't fear her. Hyahh!"

"If she's anything like you, I'm sure she's formidable," Clark grunted as they galloped towards the Amazon city.

The next hour seemed to pass in a blur of noise and light and color, or it seemed that way to Clark. They'd ridden directly into the city, where the roads became lined with paved stone instead of dirt and gravel. He supposed he gaped, like any tourist in a foreign country, with astonishment at all the sights around him, at the statues and the classical buildings, so incredibly ancient-looking but solid and real, unlike the cracked and broken remnants of some archaeological dig. It was if he had gone back in time and traveled back to ancient Alexandria when it was at its height in the centuries before Christ. He heard the sounds of the Amazons before he really saw them, talking, shouting, arguing, singing. And then he saw the Amazons themselves, who greeted Diana with both surprise and acclamation, bowing to her, but then they saw him and fell awkwardly silent, staring at him with a mix of bewilderment, disgust and incomprehension, possibly at his odd suit and cape, or maybe because he was seated docilely behind Diana, clearly not tied up and a prisoner. He was glad Diana had warned him of their appearance, since while some of them were in armor and helmets (guards or soldiers, perhaps), others were dressed in clothes like ancient Greek-style chitons or gowns, some exposing a single breast, or some had on barely anything at all, just strips of cloth or tanned leather, which left very little to the imagination (he also felt a bit like was in a National Geographic Channel special). The Amazons either stared at him, or did their best to ignore him as if he was invisible behind Diana. The Amazons themselves were hard to ignore - they all looked like tough, powerful people, and appeared to come in all colors, black, brown, or white of skin, and they were blonde, black or brown-haired, russet-haired, and various mixes of all of these. They seemed a mix of young and old too, but mostly young, but it seemed to him hard to tell how old they were, exactly. He knew from Diana that many of them were very long-lived, and that women of her mother's generation were virtually immortal. But they, to a woman, were all strong and healthy-looking, as if they imbibed the natural strength of this pristine land. He couldn't see anyone who looked ill or sick.

Of course he could see no men.

As news of Diana's return spread throughout the city, Amazons came running from every direction to watch them as they turned onto the wide main avenue which led directly to the palace, and Clark really began to feel nervous. They didn't crowd them, but allowed a path for them to ride directly to the palace. Now they were mostly silent, and stared, as if Diana were leading an elephant. Some of them looked hostile, or directed glares of distinct hatred at him, but Clark noticed (he couldn't help but think of what a great article this would make if he could sit down and write it), that those looks came from mostly the older-looking Amazons. The younger ones looked at him with mostly curiosity, but their looks were not particularly welcoming either. Just...tolerant. At least they weren't throwing things at him, as he knew had happened to Trevor.

"It is because we are carrying Gorgo's remains with us," Diana murmured as Clark whispered that question to her. "They are respectful because they know we bring an old warrior home."

In fact, there did seem to be an almost funeral quiet among the Amazons, even as they greeted Diana's return, but mixed in with it was a solemnity, as if she was a warrior returning from a hard-fought and inconclusive battle.

_Perhaps they think I am a captive?_ Clark wondered. He really hoped he would be able to address the Amazons, maybe speak to them from their agora, which he knew from studying ancient Greece was a gathering place or assembly for people to meet. He was just confident and idealistic enough to believe he could convince them of his honest intentions.

That is, if he could convince the Amazon Queen first.

Then they could see where the boulevard terminated, at the marble steps of the palace, where an even larger crowd of Amazons awaited them. These were not bystanders, they were all in dressed full armor, with their helmet's faceplates drawn down over their faces, armed with long spears, long cloaks over their shoulders. In front of them stood a single tall Amazon woman, her skin a deep coal-black color.

"General Philippus," Diana whispered to Clark. "My mother's Master of Horse and the senior warrior on the island, next to my mother. She was Gorgo's closest sister."

Gorgo's friend? That couldn't be good, Clark thought, thinking of how the late Amazon detested his relationship with Diana.

As Diana's horse pulled up in front of this armed group, all the Amazons, Philippus included, bowed deferentially before her.

"Princess Diana," Philippus said formally. "Welcome home. Your mother and the Council await within."

Diana leapt off the horse in one graceful motion, Clark doing likewise. He could see how the General's eyes followed his every movement, watching and waiting. Clark held the case containing Gorgo's ashes tightly in his arms. It seemed to act like a protective bubble, he thought, keeping the Amazons at a respectful distance.

Diana stepped forward, and she and the older black woman clasped arms warmly, in the manner of warriors greeting.

"General Philippus, how I have missed you! How is my mother?"

"I have missed you too, child. Your mother is very well. She pines for you, making offerings daily for your safe return," General Philippus looked over at Clark. "This man..."

"He shall accompany me into the Palace," Diana's voice was gentle but firm. "My mother is expecting him too...as you know, Philippus."

The powerful Amazon general hesitated. "Very well," she could barely bring herself to look directly at Clark. "Please follow me, my lady."

Diana looked at Clark and nodded. Here was the moment. He took a deep breath and followed Diana and the Amazon General, the other Amazons following behind them in two files. Together they had ascended the marble steps, into the massive Palace edifice, a magnificent building surrounded by Corinthian columns each over 100 feet high. But as impressive as the exterior was, the interior was even more awe-inspiring. Clark followed Diana into a huge chamber with high ceilings of giant timbers. The walls surrounding it were decorated with elaborate murals; he stared at them and after a moment realized they depicted the Amazons' history and journey to Themyscira. Here were scenes of battles, flames and wild and bloody, then an exodus scene and then the island of Themyscira, to which the Amazons traveled as if led along a path in the sky or ocean, composed of swirling blue waves and clouds, so skillfully recreated by the artists that it looked to be drawn from life. He would have liked to study them further but his eyes were drawn to the center of the giant room. The columns here were of gold and decorated with lapis lazuli and other precious gems. At the far end was the throne, am elaborately-worked curule chair; surrounding it was the High Council, presumably six or seven Amazons dressed in their elaborate gowns of rank, shot through with threads of gold and silver and platinum. But the person sitting on the throne...

A cry rang out in the chamber, "Obeisance! To the Queen of Themyscira and Amazonia!"

At that drawn-out call, all the Amazons in the room, Diana included, dropped down to their knees in prostration.

Clark, raised in Smallville, always found the act of bowing uncomfortable and, well, foreign, but he knew that here he couldn't avoid it. He dropped down to only one knee, and no doubt he was doing it all wrong, because his ears picked up the sound of displeased murmurs, coming from the far back of the audience chamber.

Although he was supposed to bow his head as well as his knee, Clark couldn't help but sneak a peek upwards at the Queen. What he saw stunned him – it was just like looking at a mirror image of Diana! Or, rather, how Diana would look like if she were in her mid-forties. The same physical build and the same raven-dark hair, only hers had several strands of silver running through them, but which gave her an air of mature dignity. She was dressed in a long gown of dark purple, the royal color, which left her arms bare, and her tiara was similar to Diana's. Like all the Amazons, she wore bracelets of some dark metal. Her fierce and unyielding eyes were also just like Diana's (only with perhaps some lines at the corners), and he saw that now they were fixed firmly on his.

Clark quickly lowered his eyes, but he could still feel her eyes, focused intently on him.

"Arise," Hippolyta said, and the court recovered. Her voice was slightly deeper than Diana's, but even their voices were similar. "Princess Diana, we welcome your return to Themyscira and we await the stories of your exploits in Man's World."

"My mother and Queen," Diana replied in an equally formal and respectful tone. "I bring back our fallen sister, Gorgo."

At the mention of Gorgo's name, a collective groan, soft and emotional, echoed through the hall. The acoustics here ensured that any sound would be clear and audible. Clark had set the bag beside him as he bowed; he was unsure of what to do, until an Amazon guardswoman appeared at her side, her face impassive. She held out her arms. He looked at Diana but she only nodded silently. He opened the bag, and gave the cylindrical urn to the silent guard, who walked up the Queen with it, then she knelt and extended it out to her.

Queen Hippolyta slowly stood up, and Clark saw that her face, composed and set in a mask of royalty, crack slightly and reveal some deep emotion of loss and pain. She took the urn from the Amazon and held it closely to her for a second.

"We welcome our fallen sister home, and we shall hold her rites in due time. All present shall attend."

Hippolyta's voice was stern and commanding, the voice of a person used to having her orders obeyed, Clark noted. The guardswoman silently took the urn back from the Queen and disappeared off somewhere with it. The Queen settled back in her chair.

"Princess Diana," Hippolyta's voice continued to be formal. "Recite to us your deeds in Man's World. We would hear of your triumphs and your travails."

What? Clark thought, all of it? Was this part of a ritual?

It seemed to be. Diana did not look surprised, but, standing tall and rigid in her helmet and cloak, her hand on the hilt of her sword, the other on the pommel of her lasso, she did exactly as the Queen commanded, giving a sort of Cliff's Notes version of her work with the Justice League. Her recital was emotionless and to the point, as if giving a report to a Board. Clark stood just behind her, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, although he felt that the Amazons were all looking at him, even as they listened silently to Diana. Strangely, she never mentioned anyone in the Justice League by name, not him or Batman or Flash or anyone else. She did not mention Steve Trevor at all. Suddenly his suit felt very hot and uncomfortable. He tried not to fidget or look uncomfortable, looking at a point on the floor directly in front of him, guessing that first impressions counted for much here as they did anywhere else.

He was starting to lose track of time, Clark suddenly realized. He didn't know how long Diana had been speaking, but abruptly she stopped. For a brief, scary moment, Clark wondered if he had nodded off for a second.

"Introduce this man to us." Hippolyta suddenly said, and now he felt everyone's eyes on him. But Diana didn't look at him.

"He is Kal-el, of Krypton. A member of the Justice League." Diana replied, in that same uninflected voice. "He is my guest."

"And now he is mine," For the first time, Clark saw Hippolyta smile, but her eyes didn't. "You are welcome here, Kal-el of Krypton. You are a guest of the Amazon nation."

Before Clark could even stammer a thank you, Hippolyta spoke again. "Princess Diana, you will accompany me to my private chambers," Hippolyta stood up, and turned away. For a moment, Clark stood nonplussed, wondering what he should do. Then, as in afterthought, she looked over her shoulder at Clark, directly this time. "You too, Kal-el of Krypton."

* * *

It turned out that Queen Hippolyta planned to speak to Diana first, privately. There was a small antechamber outside the Queen's chambers, where two Amazon guardswomen waited outside the doors.

"I will speak to my daughter first, then I should like to talk with you, Kal-el," Hippolyta told him in a courteous voice. Up close, she was as tall as Diana, and he could see she had strong muscles, just like her. "Please wait here, while we go within."

Speechless for the moment, Clark nodded. He didn't even have time to catch Diana's eyes as the two of them walked through the entrance to the royal chambers, then the heavy oaken door was closed by the guards, who took up positions on either side of it. Clark was now alone, except for them.

He looked around. The rectangular anteroom was open to the air and sun, and there were pots of flowers and blooming fruit trees in thick pots along the stone walls. There was a bench next to one of them, and he sat down. So far so good, he thought. He was still breathing! He glanced up at the two Amazon guardswomen, who stood staring ahead of them, their faces like stone.

"Beautiful place," Clark smiled tentatively at them. "It's a...nice day, um..."

No response.

_So lame, Smallville! If you think that will work on the Queen you might as well go home!_

Finally, alone together, away from the others, Hippolyta allowed herself to shed her royal persona - so tiring, these royal audiences! She held out her arms to Diana imploringly.

"My little warrior, how you've grown!"

Diana could not restrain herself. She darted forward and mother and daughter embraced, all past arguments and disagreements forgotten...at least momentarily.

Hippolyta held Diana tightly, remembering the last time she had done this. When Diana had flouted all her orders, all customs, and left with that man.

"Mother, mother..." Diana murmured, fighting back her tears. She realized how much she had missed her.

"Come, stand up straight, let me look at you," Hippolyta held her out at arms length, examining her daughter head to foot. Diana stood still, suddenly feeling like a little girl again awaiting approval. It wasn't the most welcome feeling she had. Carefully, Hippolyta reached out, took off Diana's helmet.

"You look beautiful as always, though I wonder if you have put on weight in Man's World, not much, but I do hope you are eating well. The food of Man's World is unhealthy, full of chemicals and poisons, you must watch what you eat..."

_She is always lecturing!_ Diana thought, "Mother, please," She looked around the room, where she had played so often at her mother's feet, then, as she grew older, to be privately chastised. It was the same as always. A reclining couch, where her mother took her meals alone. The great double-bladed axe of Amazonia, the _pelekus_, hanging on one wall. The same marble table nearly overflowing with scrolls and papyrus, her writing quill set to one side. Nothing had changed except for..."Mother...is that...do you have an iPad?"

Hippolyta laughed. "Yes! Such a marvelous toy! How else do you think I keep up with the news of Man's World? However, I do not indulge much. Most of it is very depressing, your exploits with this 'Justice League' notwithstanding. The same foolishness."

"Mother, you cannot believe everything you read on the Internet! The news is not all bad."

"Then I should not believe what I read about this 'Superman'?" Hippolyta asked. "Is it not true, his powers, what he does with the Justice League?" Hippolyta's eyes narrowed. "What he does with you?"

Diana knew this moment would come and here it was. "I would prefer, Mother, that you ask questions about Superman from me, and not from spurious Man's news."

Hippolyta stepped closer to Diana, until they were face to face. "Then, this Superman…must I ask the question this raises in my heart?"

Diana looked directly at her mother's face. "No," she said evenly. "You do not. He and I are together of our own free will. I was not forced into marriage."

She saw Hippolyta look down at the floor; instead of looking relieved, her brows were knitted together in disappointment, and Diana guessed her mother's thoughts.

"Would it be easier for you to deal with if I had answered that yes, I was taken as his prize in battle?" Diana said harshly. "You could have dealt with him however you wanted, then. I could tell how irked you were, seeing him here in the palace!"

Hippolyta grunted, as she retreated into her one of her cushioned chairs. "No of course it would not have pleased me, you silly girl. It would have pained me tremendously if that were true. But still," she said, in a voice that sounded far from pleased. "I hope that at least you are his principle wife?"

Diana felt her anger growing, and fought it down. This was yet another of her mother's tactics: to goad her into losing her temper, and thereby reveal her true feelings.

"You know very well that American society is monogamous," Diana forced herself to reply as calmly as possible. "There is no other wife."

"Whatever word they call it by, surely you cannot be so naïve as to think you are the only woman?" Hippolyta settled back in her chair. "Oh, perhaps there is an ordinary mortal woman, or two, for him to amuse himself with whenever you are occupied with this 'Justice League' of yours, someone not so headstrong as you? Oh, but of course you are the one who owns his heart…for now."

"As I told you, there is no other woman, nor has there ever been," Diana replied coolly, although she wanted to shout at her mother. "I was his first, as he was mine. I do not know what nonsense Gorgo told you, but perhaps you are watching too many gossip shows on your new toy, like so many other women in their dotage."

_Ah, so my cub has at least kept her claws sharp and not allowed them to grow dull_, thought Hippolyta. _Good. Perhaps there is hope for her then._

Hippolyta smiled thinly. "Yes, I admit I have watched some of these, how they call it, 'gossip shows' on that 'toy.' You and your companions in the Justice League are very popular, indeed! So much rampant speculation on whom is sleeping with whom! I must say I find it all quite amusing. As I said, some things never change! However, I place no value on such trivia. I know the Amazon I raised would never stoop so low as to bed every man who takes her fancy, even if that man is powerful and handsome. That is why I trusted you would not make a fool of yourself with that Steve Trevor, and allowed the two of you to leave, against the wishes of the High Council. You know, of course, that they wanted him put to death, and to have you cool your heels in the dungeons for a time."

"I remember it very well. You were willing to believe me then, why this change now?" Diana demanded.

"You must ask why, Diana? I could understand your curiosity with that soldier. He was a fine specimen of manhood, such as he was, and handsome to look on. He was the first man you ever set eyes on, and you were always so curious and fearless, even about the centaurs and harpies that dwell in the wilderness! But I only allowed you to leave with him because I knew that he was no match for you, physically or mentally, and if your curiosity about the other world was not satisfied, you would forever dwell upon it. I assumed you would be invulnerable in a world where you were the strongest! More than a match for any man! But what must you do?"

Hippolyta threw up her hands and stood up from her chair, unable to contain her irritation. "Did you go out of your way to find this…this _creature_, the one man stronger than yourself? Did you even try to best him in combat? Or did this Superman defeat Trevor in order to gain you? Or did you simply allow him to seduce you into his bed and his home as if you were some Athenian _hetaira _looking for a protector? And this marriage-"

"He did not seduce me!" Diana was beginning to feel her composure slip, now that her mother had poked at her pride: her strength and skill in arms. "I never submitted to him in battle. How many times must I tell you, we are equals…"

"Oh, spare me this talk of 'equals'!" Hippolyta shouted in exasperation now. "Did you study our history, only to forget it as quickly? Did you not participate in the Iron Rite like all your sisters? How many times have I and Philippus and Gorgo told you of Herakles, of how he and his men called us their equals also, of how they swore to be as blood-brothers to us, and we their sword-sisters, but in the end we were no more than whores in their eyes! Just as you are now to this 'Superman' and to his male friends – just another gash to be used and then discarded, like any common slut in a brothel!"

"_Bloody Hera's cunt, mother!"_ Diana roared, ripping her cloak off and hurling it aside in an absolute fury. "Must you always bring up that bastard Herakles? I am so tired of it! Can you talk and think of nothing else! Or is that memory so precious to you that you cannot let it go?"

"I speak of it because obviously you have forgotten!" Hippolyta replied with self-righteous indignation. "You have forgotten yourself with this man, to the point you have forgotten that you are an _Amazon_! A _free woman_! Have you dishonored yourself so utterly that you actually crave to service his _rhombos_ day and night?"

"How dare you say such a thing to me you…you pigheaded old woman!"

Because of whatever acoustic dampening effect was present on this island, Clark could not quite make out exactly the words that were now being exchanged rapidly between mother and daughter, but due to the rising volume and tone of their voices, he had a good guess that things were not exactly going their best. The guards continued standing there like statues; perhaps they'd heard this plenty of times. With Diana he wouldn't be surprised. When he caught his name, quickly followed by 'brute' and 'whore' and 'stupid woman' he made up his mind that he couldn't just sit outside here while things were going to hell in a handbasket. But those guards certainly weren't going to let him just waltz in. He had to create a diversion.

Slowly, and casually, Clark stood up, made as if he would stretch. He turned his back slightly, feeling the guards' eyes on him. He looked around. What could he do?

There, a creeping vine at the far end of the anteroom, its tendrils reaching up to the sky through the open ceiling. It would be so simple, could it actually work? Turned just so the guards couldn't see his face, he focused his eyes on its roots...

A puff of smoke, then flame as the vine burst into flames. The guards gasped and just as he expected, they turned their attention to putting it out, taking their eyes away from him just for a moment.

It was enough!

Faster than the guards could notice, Clark rushed in just as he saw Diana and her mother standing quite close to each other, their fists clenched and both of their eyes flashing. He wouldn't be surprised if they came to blows in the next second. For a moment he thought they looked just like sisters. The same temperament too. Maybe that was a part of the problem, Clark thought, they were so much alike.

"Um…pardon me, your Majesty."

Both women broke apart, clearly startled. Queen Hippolyta stared at him with outrage as if he'd burst in on her while sitting on the commode, that look of I-can't-quite-believe-you-have-such-nerve, but she managed to control herself. She folded her arms over her chest.

"I see, too," she said somehow between white lips. "That your 'Superman' believes he may go wherever he pleases. No doubt he is accustomed to such reverence."

"My apologies, Majesty," Clark began before Diana could speak. "I mean no disrespect. But I don't want to cause troubles between you and Diana. I just want to plead my case."

"You have already caused trouble," Hippolyta looked him up and down coldly, now that he was much closer to her. "What case can you make for seducing my daughter?"

"I didn't seduce her," Clark protested. "This was our mutual decision. If there is anything that I can do that will put your mind at ease," he caught Diana's warning look out of the corner of his eye, but he pressed on. "I want to tell you that I care very much for your daughter, and I would do nothing to dishonor her or her people."

"We have a different concept of 'honor' than you may have, _Superman_."

"Please, Majesty, my name is Kal-el. That is my birth-name. I don't call myself a Superman. Diana's told me the history of the Amazons and your culture…"

"As Diana has told me of yours," Hippolyta stepped closer to him, and Clark resisted the urge to take a step backwards, but she was only looking at him with more curiosity than anger now. "Are you truly as powerful as she claims? You seem to be as a god, but I have never heard of one who did not possess hubris and arrogance in like measure. Why do you not behave as one in your world? Tell me the truth!"

Clark shook his head firmly. "I am no god, and I have no intention to act like one. Although I was born on Krypton I was raised in Smallville by ordinary Americans, people. They gave me their name, Clark Kent."

"Yes, so I have been told," Hippolyta raised an eyebrow. "It amuses you to pretend that you are an ordinary mortal. What profit do you attain by this?"

"It's not for amusement," Clark insisted. "I'm not different from them, other than my abilities, and I only use them to protect people, not for my benefit."

"He speaks truth, Mother," Diana interjected. "Why will you not listen to what he says?

Hippolyta shrugged, and resumed her seat. "You say you are a humble and honorable man. Perhaps it is as you claim, and perhaps you have convinced Diana of your noble intentions. Maybe you are right, though I am yet to be convinced, but I do not know you. Understand, I am only speaking as any mother would.

"I am not ignorant of the desires that move man and woman together," Hippolyta continued. "Even we Amazons are moved by such feelings at times, and I admit I have been also. So," Hippolyta slapped a palm on the armrest of her chair. "You and Diana are attracted to each other. I can understand this. You are young and strong, attractive to one another. That is no crime. But," she raised a finger as Clark was on the verge of interrupting. "Attraction is one thing. A marriage is another. Such a thing is not practiced among the Amazons, it is anathema to us, a bond blessed by a patriarchal sky-god as practiced in Man's World which compels the woman to obey her husband…"

"No, it wasn't like that...we didn't have a church wedding," Clark said hurriedly. "We had a handfasting, just between us. I wouldn't force any idea on Diana she wasn't comfortable with."

"Nonetheless, you consider her your 'wife' do you not?" Hippolyta's voice was grim. "A woman to be at your beck-and-call to please you whenever and however you wish?"

Clark shook his head, feeling the blood rush to his face, hearing the dark implication in Hippolyta's voice. Beside him he could feel Diana's palpable anger. He had to de-escalate this. "No, it's not like that! She's my friend as well as my partner. I swear I would not force anything on her. I never have!"

"So you say. But Gorgo told me of this place where you lived, this Smallville. You took her there to live with you on your farm. She saw it with her own eyes, how you had her working in the fields beside you," Hippolyta's eyes now turned cold. "My daughter is no farmer's drudge."

He heard the haughty displeasure in the Queen's voice, and now it was Clark's turn to try to rein in his temper – why did people, whether here or on Earth, think farmers and their families were low-class people? Who did she think she was? At that moment he could really sympathize with Diana.

"No. Diana is not a 'drudge.' She's never been one," He looked at the Queen and didn't drop his gaze. "But," he added firmly. "She is my wife. I respect you, Queen Hippolyta, as her mother, but you will not change my feelings for her. I love her, and I respect her. I am not ashamed of who I am or what my parents were, and neither is she."

There was a moment of dead quiet, as Hippolyta eyed the tall, strongly built man in front of her, as if still weighing him and his words. She glanced at Diana, and saw that she was just as immovable as this stubborn man.

"Very well. She is your 'wife,' as you say...for now," Hippolyta sighed, as if resigned to the antics of two stubborn children who couldn't be reasoned with. She arose from the chair, paced thoughtfully in front of them.

"I see that you are not done with amusing yourselves with each other. Then, I will not stop either of you – as the wise say it is only fools who come between young couples in the grip of _eros_. I invited you to Themysicra as a favor to my daughter, and in Gorgo's memory, since she fought for both of you. I grant at the least that you seem to be a mannerly and brave young man, like Trevor was, so you are welcome here, for a time. See what you may of our little island, learn about us."

"But," Hippolyta said with implacable firmness. "When you return to Man's World, I expect this foolishness between you to cease. I trust that you two will see the wisdom of that for yourselves, in time. But I do hope you shall part amicably, as friends, if you are the honorable man you claim you are."

Clark felt disheartened, as if all his words were for nothing but at least Hippolyta appeared to believe he hadn't raped her daughter. That was a good thing. But he could tell she was simply unwilling to believe that he and Diana truly loved one each other; it was something totally alien to her experience. He knew he was not going to convince her in one day of his honor, it was something only time could do, but that was exactly what they didn't have at the moment.

"There is…one more thing, mother," Diana began cautiously. "That you should be aware of before you say any more."

Hippolyta stopped pacing and looked at her daughter, puzzled. "What more is there?"

Diana opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She closed it again. Clark tried also, but suddenly he felt quite numb. They both tried again.

"Well…your Majesty, it's just that…" Clark stuttered.

"I'm…"

"We're…"

Clark and Diana stopped again, looked at each other helplessly. Hippolyta glanced from one to another, apprehension suddenly growing in her.

"_What_ more?"

Clark braced himself and opened his mouth but Diana beat him to it.

"Mother, I came here with him not only to bring Gorgo's ashes back, but…but for another reason…" Diana began; although she'd intended for her news to come out as a thunderous and triumphant proclamation, her voice emerged rather tiny and scared, quite unlike her. But there was no going back.

"I also came to tell you that I carry Kal's baby within me. So then…we shall stay married. Now, you know."

In the anteroom Selene dumped a pail of water over the smoldering plant and breathed a sigh of relief. If the palace had burned down during their watch there would have been all Hades to pay! On this of all days!

Eirene, the new Guardswoman, turned and frowned. That great big blue-and-red man was no longer sitting there on the bench. "Where in hells has that man gone?"

"I don't…"

Abruptly, an ear-splitting bang struck their ears, making both Guardswomen jump from fright.

KRRAAAAKOOOOMM!

* * *

**Oh my goodness what has happened? Tune in next time to read Hippolyta's reaction to baby news. Will Clark and Diana survive? Will Diana be sent to her room for all eternity? Will Clark's body parts end up as Hippolyta's new interior décor? Keep your fingers crossed, unless it is to type a review, they are always welcome! ;)**


	13. Chapter 7: The Bargain

**Chapter 7: The Bargain**

Clark stood stock still before the extremely angry Amazon Queen, dust still rising in the air from the shattered marble table, cleanly sheared through and lying in two pieces as a result of being struck by the great _pelekus_ she now gripped with trembling fury. 'Angry' would hardly be the right adjective to describe the individual before him, thought Clark; he wouldn't dare use such a tired old word like 'angry' in a story for the _Daily_ _Planet_. Old Mr. White would have kicked his story back and ordered him to use something more colorful, such as 'incandescent with rage.' Yes, that would be a more apt description for Queen Hippolyta at this very moment.

After Diana had revealed their joyful news (joyful!), the Queen had stood nonplussed for a moment, then in a split-second, almost faster than Clark could comprehend, she had snatched the huge double-bladed axe off the wall. Clark hadn't quite realized until this moment just how strong and fast this woman was, nearly as powerful as Diana. All his senses for self-preservation were now at DEFCON ONE; he glanced hurriedly over at Diana and saw that she was as petrified as he was.

The Amazon guardswomen warily poked their heads in through the door and Hippolyta shot them a look over her shoulder. Whatever they saw in her face made them disappear once again quickly. Whatever their Queen was about, they were clearly not going to interfere.

Clark took a deep breath. "Your Majesty…"

Hippolyta whirled about and aimed the sharpened iron tip of the _pelekus_ directly at Clark's throat, and he froze.

"_Dog_!" Hippolyta managed to expel the word in a voice that sounded barely human. "You filthy cur!"

"Mother!" Diana gasped, looking quite a shade paler than when she'd first entered the palace. He supposed he looked the same. "Stop this! Set down the _pelekus_!"

Hippolyta barked a harsh, crazed laugh. "Set it down? I have yet to make use of it! I shall cleave this cur's head from his neck and plant it on a spike in the agora for all to see! The rest of his body will travel all over the island!"

"You will do no such a thing!" Diana cried. "You promised-"

"Silence!" Hippolyta bellowed. "That was before…before I learned that you are well and truly ensnared! Diana, are you blind?" Her mother's voice was incredulous, the anger now laced with an underlying pain. "Is this not the oldest trick? I raised you better than this, Diana! How could you allow this to happen, to fall with child to the first man who pleasures you? You were to meant to change Man's World! Your destiny was to show women what they could be, strong and fearless like yourself, you were not to-to end up as no more than-than a brood mare on a peasant's farm!"

"Hippolyta!"

Superman's strong, loud voice rang in the chamber, and his face was showing anger, at last. The outraged Queen steeled herself for combat, welcoming it. Here was the true face of this monster, just as she expected! She would end his life in this very room and have his carcass dragged through the streets of the city! She and her sisters would drink his blood!

But when the man spoke again, there was no anger, and his voice had resumed its calm docility. It was not what she expected.

"Majesty…I'm…I'm sorry if you find this news so hurtful. That's not how we intended it to be. We were – we are – happy to learn we are to going have a child, and we hoped you would be as well. It was something neither she or I planned to happen, but we welcome it with all our hearts. If you think that makes your daughter weak and subservient, then…then you're wrong, you're very wrong."

Diana held her breath, not able to remember the last time anyone – much less a male – told her mother she was wrong, at least so blatantly. At the same time she was relieved to hear Clark speaking up for her so rationally (all she could think of was shouting back in rage at her mother). But she feared what might happen next; she could not imagine this ending without violence. This was going to end up badly!

"It's the opposite of what you say," Clark said imploringly, his hands held out. "I don't know a braver woman than Diana. I'm not human, and I…I don't know what this child might be. I've spent hours worrying about it, wondering if maybe this wasn't a mistake. But Diana, I never saw her have a moment's doubt. Surely the Amazons value motherhood, too?"

Hippolyta's grip on the _pelekus_ did not waver. "On our terms," she snarled. "As you say, you are not human, and I do not know by what demon's tricks you convinced my daughter to breed for you."

"Mother, it was no trick!" Diana finally found her voice, even as she wanted to go to Clark and hold onto him, after hearing what he said. "It is what it is, and anyway I am sure you know very well the manner of how superhuman conception happens!"

Hippolyta shot her daughter a deadly look. "You dare to compare your divine birth with…with this thing!" She jabbed the _pelekus_ at Clark. "I care not if you are a god or a demon or an alien! You will not escape punishment here and now! Then, Diana, I shall deal with you after!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Clark saw Diana tensing up, ready to spring at her mother if she tried to swing at him with that ugly metal blade. He didn't know if it had some kind of "magick" power, like Diana's lasso, but whether it did or not, he couldn't let Diana and her mother get into a knock-down dragged-out fight over him. They would never forgive the other, he knew, if they came to blows over this. He had to make a decision, and now.

Clark took a deep breath. "If that is to be so, your Majesty, then I shall submit to it."

Diana and Hippolyta froze, taken completely aback. They both stared at him in surprise.

Slowly and carefully, keeping his eyes on the Queen's the entire time, Clark went down on one knee, then two, kneeling directly before her.

"I don't know what I can do to demonstrate my sincerity regarding Diana," he said. "So, I will try to prove it to you, instead. But please don't punish Diana, it's me you are angry with. Whatever you want to do to me, I will accept it."

Clark leaned forward so that his fists rested on the floor just beyond Hippolyta's sandals, fully prostrating himself. His neck was directly under the axe. She did not make a move. Diana was looking down at him as if he'd gone quite, totally mad.

"Kal!" Diana nearly shouted. "What do you think you're-"

The Queen turned to Diana, and whatever look she had directed at her guards it was probably the same for her, since she didn't say another word. Then she looked down at the man kneeling before her suspiciously, as if it could be a trick. The _pelekus_ wavered, just slightly.

"Speak you true?" Hippolyta demanded. "You will...submit to me?"

Diana opened her mouth again, but nothing came out as Hippolyta shot her daughter another look that said clearly_, Not another word, you._

Even now Clark wondered if he was doing the right thing, but it was too late, he had to go through with this now, in order to keep the peace between them.

"I will, I swear it. Just…so long as I can be here on Themyscira while she awaits the birth of our child."

The _pelekus_ was lowered carefully to the ground, its pointed tip aimed at the floor now and no longer at his neck. She stretched out a hand over his head, and it hovered there, uncertain still, as if she couldn't make up her mind whether or not to lay it on his head in blessing or crack his head like an eggshell. Diana watched her mother and husband, almost too astounded as to be able to breathe. What in Hades was he thinking?

Finally, after what seemed an eternity to Clark, she lowered her hand on his head, resting it squarely on his black locks. He could feel the energy still thrumming through her fingers, from her iron grip on her weapon, as she applied just the slightest pressure. When she spoke, it was absent of all anger, once again in that tone of royal formality.

"Then, Kal-el of Krypton, I accept your submission. I shall take you into my service. You will be answerable only to me for all your actions while on Themyscira. You will not make any move to harm any of the Amazons here, by word, look, or deed. You most certainly will not use your powers against us. In turn you will be under my protection and sufferance. Do you agree to these terms?"

"I do." Clark felt slightly dizzy. What had he just done?

Hippolyta took a deep breath, and stepped back. She made a gesture for him to rise again, and he did so, allowing himself to relax just a bit, the first since he had entered the Queen's quarters.

His eyes swung towards Diana, to see her reaction. She was staring down at the ground, as if her gaze could bore a hole through it. She looked rather mortified, Clark thought, and then he knew she wasn't exactly pleased with his decision.

"Good, then!" Hippolyta crisply tossed the _pelekus_ to Diana, and clapped Clark on the sides of his arms, her mood noticeably improved, as if her anger was a thing long forgotten. "Maybe you are a wise person after all. You are welcome here…as _my_ guest. I believe that will suit my daughter as well?"

Hippolyta smiled complacently over at her daughter, whose mouth was working as if she'd accidently spooned in some extra-hot wasabi. She didn't say anything, not trusting herself to speak before her mother.

"So then...we are all happy! We hope that you shall be happy with us, on our little island," Hippolyta swept her gown over her shoulders. "Now, I must find my guards. They will have gone to fetch reinforcements, no doubt. I shall inform them, and the Council, of the arrangement we've come to. Once the both of you have gone through the purification retreat - Diana can explain that to you - then we can see about your comforts here and discuss our family matters like civilized persons. Yes, well...I shall return shortly."

With that, Hippolyta swept out of her chambers.

Clark breathed out a sigh of relief, allowed himself to smile. Well, he'd survived that and still had his head on his shoulders! He turned to Diana, but to his consternation she did not look quite as happy. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"Clark!" She whispered. "What have you done?"

* * *

**Just a short chapter here to take care of last chapter's cliffhanger. Poor Clark, he will find out what he's let himself in for. I know many of you wanted to see Clark put her in his place, but he is still trying to be a peacemaker. Hippolyta has certain designs of her own regarding Supes (no not romantic ones) but she is a bit Machiavellian here. What are her plans?**

**Thanks for reading, and thanks for all your reviews :) Keep them coming in, please!**

**BTW, have you all seen the awesome WW fan trailer on Vimeo? It's just how I imagine WW should be :D**


	14. Chapter 8 - A Different Amazon

**[Thanks for reading still! Thanks for the reviews - it seems controversial chapters may bring more reviews so maybe I'm onto something here - so be prepared for another naked Clark scene and another embarrassing scene for him - but it all turns out well in the end.]**

**Chapter 8 – A Different Amazon**

After Hippolyta left, Clark breathed a sigh of relief. His head was still on his shoulders, and – more importantly – he'd managed to persuade the Amazon Queen (he still couldn't really quite think of her as a 'mother-in-law') to allow him to remain on Paradise Island with Diana. Whatever other plans she had up her sleeve (metaphorically), he was positive he could deal with them once they manifested themselves. He'd certainly put up with much worse in his life! Being with Diana during this crucial time, that was the important thing.

But, as Clark turned to his wife, he realized he might have been premature in thinking that his troubles were over.

Diana was staring at him as if he'd grown a third eye – one that glowed and twirled counterclockwise while shooting off fireworks all at once – in the middle of his forehead, and one that she wanted to gouge out, posthaste.

"Clark!" She sputtered, virtually in the same voice of indignation as her mother, Clark noted. "What have you done?"

"What I did? I, ah, I prevented an imminent fight between you and your mom, and in the process managed to not get myself maimed or banished for life?" Clark suggested lightly. But Diana was in no mood for levity - he could already see an unpleasant flush rising in her face.

"You…!" Diana growled a word in Themysciran that Clark didn't yet have in his vocabulary, but he guessed _idiot_ would suffice. "You were to come in when I invited you, not to barge in and do…do what you did! _Why_ did you do that?"

"Diana?" Clark folded his arms, nonplussed. Now it looked like he was going to have to persuade Diana not to fly off the handle at him as well. "What exactly are you upset about this time?"

"Don't condescend to me, Clark!" Diana threw up her hands. "Do you even know what you did?"

"Obviously, I don't, so why don't you tell me?" Clark forced his voice to remain calm. The last thing they both needed was another shouting match, within hearing range of any Amazon guard that would happen along.

As if thinking the same thing, Diana took a deep breath, made an attempt to regain her frayed temper. "You swore yourself to my mother's service, you are all but her servant now!"

"Diana, I know what 'service' means, but what does it matter, if she thinks I'm…I'm her new valet or whatever? I am her new son-in-law after all," Clark suddenly had a vision of himself dressed as Bruce's butler (that English guy, what-was-his-name), bringing Queen Hippolyta her tea, as if she was the Maggie Smith character in _Downton Abbey. _"Whatever she wants me to do, can it be that bad?"

"If you'd even bothered to listen to _anything_ I've told you about my mother," Diana gritted her teeth. "You'd know what you have let yourself in for!"

"Diana, in case you don't remember yourself, I _did_ listen to you, many, many times, and all you ever told me was what an ogre your mother was!" Clark shook his head as Diana began pacing her mother's room, as if trying to do something with her furious energy. "What did you expect me to do? Fight her? Shove her ass back in that chair and say 'Fuck you, your Majesty?' I'm sure that would have gone down really well! Did you really want me to do that?"

Diana hesitated, and for a moment, Clark thought Diana would say_, Hell yes!_, but she shook her head. "No, of course not. But you could have stood up to her! Shown her who you are! You are not just any man who landed here! You are my husband! My brother-warrior! And you walked right into her hands! I know my mother, she has something planned, some scheme she wants you for, and it will not be good. I know the man you are, Clark, but sometimes I think you must have the heart of a rabbit!"

"You don't mean that." Clark said quietly, taken aback by her vehemence. He reached out to touch her shoulder, but she impulsively jerked away, her hands clutching her forearms, as if she didn't trust them to fly off and strike him. He saw then, that the placating gesture he had made to Hippolyta simply to calm her down, had really upset Diana. Clark realized at that moment that there was a deep divide between Diana and her mother, more than just the usual generational gap. Or perhaps it was more like a chasm. Diana was acting as if he had betrayed her somehow.

They said nothing for a moment, Clark uncertain what to say, Diana not trusting herself to. Then came the sound of marching feet approaching them. Diana finally sighed, unhappily.

"What's done is done, and we cannot undo it, for now. I will do what I can to find out what Mother has been up to since my absence. I will talk to her, try to convince her of your innocence."

"I thought I already did that."

Diana swiveled her eyes towards him, said with cold solemnity. "You do not know Hippolyta."

A quartet of armed Amazon guards suddenly appeared in the entranceway, one of them, bowing respectfully to Diana.

"Princess, we are to escort you and your companion to the purification."

The Amazon guard studiously avoided looking directly at Clark.

"Already?" Clark turned to Diana.

"Both of us, we must be purified before we can participate in the actual life of Themyscira. We have not had a male participate in the purification since Steve landed here," Diana smiled humorlessly. "He spent his purification retreat in the dungeons, but that will not happen to you. But we will not do the purification together."

Diana moved to step away with the Amazons, but Clark urgently put his hand on her arm. This time, Diana paused, looked at him uncertainly under her black hair.

"I remember that. But we will be together, after? That's the important thing. We're _together_, just as we've always been. I promise you, no one will come between us."

Clark saw Diana's eyes soften, as if just then she wasn't the Amazon Princess, but his dear friend and lover, capable of love and humor and compassion…but only for a moment. She was mindful of the guards watching them. He saw her posture harden, almost imperceptibly, and the warrior was back.

"I know, Kal-el. We will be…after the purification. Three days. I will see you again, then."

Without another word or touch, she followed two of the guards out of the room. Clark watched her go silently. The remaining two women stared at Clark warily.

Well, what the hell.

He spread his arms, in the universal gesture showing he was unarmed, and smiled.

"I'm all yours, ladies."

* * *

From the recesses of a columned corridor once known as a _stoa_, Queen Hippolyta and Philippus watched as Diana and the one called Superman were led out and onto divergent paths away from the palace, away from the crowds of Amazons still loitering in front of the palace, curious for another glimpse of the strange man. Hippolyta's ebony companion watched the man closely; the Queen could tell that even her stolid and conservative old friend was confused by the man.

"You are still surprised by this 'Superman'?"

"I admit his behavior puzzles me," Philippus replied. "I thought he would surely fight you. He reminds me of that other man Diana brought to our island." From the tone of her voice, that didn't mean she was pacified.

"Yes, the soldier Trevor, but this one is...quite different, in a way I cannot fathom yet," Hippolyta rubbed her arms thoughtfully, a gesture Clark would have recognized. "Perhaps it is because he is an alien, but for a moment, I almost thought he was sincere in his capitulation."

Philippus' eyes narrowed. "You think it is a ruse?"

"I am...not sure. If it is, it is a good one. I heard them arguing almost as soon as I left. No doubt Diana wished him to put me in my place!"

The old general shook her head. "I still like it not. If you will not kill him, then why not send him home, like the other man? He will only cause trouble here."

"Because, old friend," Hippolyta's voice turned somber. "It is too late for that right now. Diana told me that she is with his child."

Philippus' eyes widened in shock. "My Queen! Such an..an offense...surely Diana was not..." She couldn't bring herself to say it aloud.

Hippolyta stared at the ground. "That is what I thought at first. But something tells me that Diana truly cares for this man, just as she did for Steve Trevor, perhaps even more so. Diana came back not just to return Gorgo to us, but to have the child here. She is, after all her time in Man's World, still an Amazon."

"But why bring this man here!" Philippus suddenly froze. "Oh no...it can't be...Diana would not do this..."

"No," Hippolyta interrupted sharply. "She does not know the prophecy. I am sure of it. Nevertheless, they are here. And this is where we are."

"Hippolyta, what shall we do?"

Silence for a minute, as Hippolyta ran through various scenarios in her mind. Philippus could tell from her friend's face that none of them were easy or comforting.

"We will watch...and wait. This Kal-el, as he calls himself, may be playing some deep game by submitting himself to me. Well, we shall find out what it is. If he is truly the man Diana says he is, then - perhaps - we are safe. If he is not," Hippolyta's eyes narrowed. "He shall see that we can play a deeper game...one with only one end."

* * *

_Three Days Later_

Clark sat quietly in a lotus posture on the soft white sand within the purification hut, his eyes closed. The hut was round and finely crafted of thick bamboo, roofed with giant palm leaves, which offered shelter from the elements. There was no furniture of any kind inside, only a bowl and ladle, and a water jug. The hut was on small inlet island within a river upstream from the capital. No doubt this location had been chosen for its plentiful hot springs; steam gently wafter from an opening in the ground in the center of the hut. The interior was warm and humid, but not oppressively so.

Clark had been here for nearly 72 hours, although he had no way of telling time other than than the sun and stars. He was completely naked, a damp sheen effected by the natural steam, coating his muscular limbs. He sat with his back to the only opening of the hut, which had no door.

All in all, he decided, this purification ritual was actually very peaceful and relaxing. At first, when he was left here, he'd been alarmed that he could not hear anything other than the birds and insects in his immediate vicinity. It appeared that all Themyscira was cloaked by some effect that limited his long-range hearing, and it worried him that he couldn't hear what was happening to Diana. But once he'd gotten used to the unnatural (for him) silence, he'd realized that this time was intended for him to be quiet and still. So he tried to do what Diana recommended - meditate, exercise, and reflect. She was doing the same thing, in all likelihood. He could see why Diana and the Amazons found this so appealing. In Metropolis, people would pay hundreds of dollars to go on a three-day retreat like this!

Although when he'd first arrived, he was not as relaxed as he was now. Three days ago, he'd thought he'd been through enough humiliation for one day. Apparently he was wrong.

Actually, that was probably the most humiliating thing to happen to him ever, even more than the investigative journalism assignment when he'd gone undercover into Metropolis' prison system to write about the corruption and the violation of human rights there. Of course, going 'in' meant being strip-searched and all that, which even though it was fairly unpleasant, he'd written one of the best stories of his career, which sent the warden and guards to jail and won several prestigious awards, including the Metropolis Journalist of the Year. Mr. Perry had actually said to him "Well done, Kent." How that had irked Lois! Clark smiled.

However, he didn't think he was going to get any awards out of this, especially not from his wife...or the Amazons.

Once he'd been separated from Diana, the guards had taken him to this island, where several Amazons, heavily armed, were already awaiting him. For a moment, Clark couldn't help but wonder if this was some kind of hit setup like in a movie, but it turned out to be exactly what Diana said it would be like.

Then they had confiscated his suit.

"Your armor, man," the senior Amazon warrior said impatiently. She was an older woman, with gray streaks in her hair. She wouldn't have looked out of place as a guard for a girls' reformatory, Clark thought. "Were you not told, the purification ritual is to be done..."

"_Au naturel_," Clark muttered, remembering what Diana told him. He didn't like to surrender his suit, but Diana had already warned him that the Amazons wouldn't allow him to wear it during the purification. "But..um, do you have to stand here and...and..." he looked at her desperately, as if she would understand his modesty.

"What, man? Do you think I have not seen a man's _rhombos_ before? By Hera!" The craggy-faced woman turned to her companions and exclaimed, "What a man! He must think it's made out of gold and studded with pearls!"

At this the other Amazons broke into roughish laughter, which only made the blood rush to Clark's face. One of the Amazons also noticed this.

"Look, he is blushing!"

Some of the Amazons gasped in amazement at this rare sight, as if he were some kind of zoo animal which just fluffed out its plumage, and they looked at him with new appreciation. Clark realized that the sooner he got done with this, the better. He hastily took off his belt and crest and reluctantly handed it to the Amazon matron. She took it aside impassively, but the younger women continued to stare at him curiously. No doubt they would have plenty to gossip about once they returned to the capital.

"So, um...what happens now?"

She stared at him as if he were quite dense. "The purification, of course! See that hut, there, man? You do? Good. Go in and sit there. Pray to your gods or whatever you worship. Offer gratitude to the Queen Hippolyta that she has let you to live," Appreciative murmurs from the others at the Queen's name. "You are not allowed to leave that place for three days. We will know if you try to leave. After three days, you shall be sent for, and then she will decide what to do with you."

Without another word they had taken the suit and had left him there, standing knee-deep in the water. He'd simply swum over to the hut, noticing the crocodile near the riverbank, eyeballing him. Of course they didn't tell him about that! They probably hoped he would get eaten. He'd developed a new appreciation for what Colonel Trevor had to go through while he was here!

So, now he had nothing to do but wait for the Amazons to come and fetch him. He hoped they wouldn't just leave him there (unlikely), rather they would come to check on him to see if he'd been eaten or not (also unlikely). But he didn't have long to wait. He heard the sound of a small rowboat approaching, then a single set of footsteps.

Clark opened his eyes, and turned his head.

A single Amazon warrior stood there, dressed in the gold and crimson livery of the Queen's Bodyguard, a breastplate and skirt of iron pleats. She was tall and lanky, but had powerful, toned and sunburned limbs. A short sword hung at her side, and a shield slung over her back, half-covered by a maroon cloak. She wore the black bracelets on her wrists, and her face was mostly concealed by the Greek-style helmet with its black horsehair crest, and the two eye openings split by the noseguard. She held some clothes (not his suit) in her arms, and a pair of laced sandals.

Clark braced himself, waiting for her to say something challenging, but she only stared with wide eyes beneath the imposing helm. Clark wondered she had ever seen any man before today. He made a move to stand, but then remembered he had no clothes on.

"You don't have to watch me dress, do you?" Clark asked warily.

The large eyes behind the helmet blinked, confusedly.

"What? Oh, no! No, of course not!" She put the clothes down on the sand and ran back outside.

Something about her voice puzzled him. Carefully, he got up, brushed himself off, and got dressed. The clothes she brought only consisted of a dun-brown, one-piece wool rectangle, with a hole in the center for his head, and reached down to just above his knees. There was a thick rope which he tied around his waist. He put on the sandals and walked out into the morning sunshine

The Amazon Guardswoman was waiting for him outside, still staring at him, her mouth open. She didn't seem like the other Amazons he'd encountered so far.

"Are you going to take me back to the palace?" Clark asked carefully. He didn't know if he was frightening her, and he didn't want to say or do anything that would scare or set her off. "Who are you?"

As if she'd just realized what she was doing, the woman cried out. "Oh! I'm sorry!"

The Amazon took off her helmet, freeing a large frizz of tangled reddish hair to fall out, and then he could clearly see her sweaty, freckled face. She smiled broadly and extended her hand out to him.

"Hi, Superman! My name's Vanessa Kapatelis," she said. "But you can call me Nessie for short!"

**[Next chapter we'll leave Supes alone with the friendly 'Amazon' and return to Man's World to meet a major villain...and whatever happened to Colonel Trevor?]**


	15. Interlude I

**[Chapter 9 introducing our major villain (and Steve Trevor) will come after this, but I wanted to throw this in here (like the kitchen sink) at this point, to link it with New 52 and the crossover bit. Thanks for reading! Any questions just PM or review!]**

**Interlude I**

_Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana_

Amanda Waller strode quickly and quietly, with purpose, down one of the gray, empty corridors of the Belle Reve Prison that bypassed the cells and led directly to the isolated hospital wing. She was followed by two heavily armed prison guards as per the standard operating procedure, or SOP, whenever a visitor (not a visiting family member) physically entered the institution. Ms. Waller was no ordinary visitor. The prisoner she had come specifically to see was likewise un-ordinary.

Belle Reve's medical facility was rather sophisticated and well equipped for a prison, but Belle Reve was a federal penitentiary, not a state prison. Also, it housed a rather special incarcerated clientele, besides the usual drug kingpins, murderers or rapists. These "special classes" were housed in a separate area of the prison, segregated from the rest of the population, so that to the locals Belle Reve maintained the outward appearance of merely another maximum-security prison.

However, Ms. Waller, and a select few others in the government, knew the true reason for the uniqueness of Belle Reve.

Two individuals awaited the young African-American woman just outside one of the patient rooms; one was a man, dressed in a white physician's coat (although he had many other specialties than medicine). He was slightly older, perhaps in his early forties, but already he had streaks of silver in his dark-brown hair. The other was a nurse also in whites, who could have easily passed for a clone of Nurse Ratched. They only took care of the "special class" of prisoners. Like Waller, both were involved with A.R.G.U.S.

"You're just in time, Ms. Waller," the man said to Ms. Waller as she approached. His voice was calm and measured. "It will not be long now. Perhaps hours, or only minutes."

A distinct frown creased her face. "I thought you said we had more time, Dr. Fenderbrake."

The older man shrugged; unlike many of Ms. Waller's colleagues, he was not intimidated by the other's displeasure. "Hard to be precise with an unknown disease. But if you want to see him, now is the time."

He nodded at the nurse, and she unlocked the door of the room with a cardkey. The nurse and guards were well-trained, and so they did not follow the doctor and Ms. Waller into the patient's room but waited outside, on guard as the door shut behind them.

It was hardly necessary. The thing that lay on the narrow hospital bed within the room was quite unlikely to pose a threat to anyone, anymore. It was hooked up to a variety of tubes and sensors surrounding the bed, monitoring all vital signs, brain waves, and flows of oxygen and fluids. A thin rasping noise came from the intubated, barely alive thing that had once been a healthy young man, husband and father. The body was thin and withered, the white hospital gown that covered it lay flat against the dry skin, doing little to conceal the devastation that afflicted the man. It looked like the victim of starvation, or of a years' long residency in Auschwitz. It laid there motionless, its glassy blind eyes staring at the ceiling, but not seeing anything. It took no notice of its two final visitors.

Despite her still-youthful age, and her experience in working in some very strange places (and with equally strange people), Amanda Waller was visibly shocked at what she saw.

"How long has he been like this?" she demanded.

Fenderbrake replied, "He was stable up until almost a month ago, then we noticed his condition gradually deteriorating; he had had weak spells for awhile, but this time his weight fluctuated, then dropped drastically. Then a week ago, his condition all went to hell. He suffered delusions, talked to invisible people, had seizures."

"What's the cause?" Waller snapped.

"Whatever it was that afflicted him to begin with. But if you want a more precise explanation for what's afflicting him now, then simply, his heart is failing and all his organs are gradually shutting down. There's nothing we can do to reverse it."

Waller clenched her fists, furious with an impotent rage and frustration. She had already been to the cell, gone through it inch by inch, and knew now that he had not finished his manuscript. There was still so much yet to do, and the one man who had the key to her plans was dying in front of her eyes. She glared at Fenderbrake, but he ignored her, staring down at his patient intently, as if he could read something in the man's appalling condition.

As if in response to the presence of the two visitors, although surely he couldn't be aware of them, his lips trembled and began to move, almost imperceptibly, as if he were preparing to speak.

"Is he conscious?" Waller whispered. Fenderbrake shook his head.

"He slips in and out. He won't recognize you, I'm afraid."

Nevertheless, Waller stepped closer to the bed and bent over it carefully so that she was directly within view of the dying man. His eyes were open, but unblinking and unfocused, covered with milky-white cataracts. His breathing was ragged and harsh, and it was evident to both of them that he had not much longer to live. Waller fought back a reactive repulsion. She had to try to talk to him.

"David," Waller spoke as loudly and as clearly as she could. "David Graves. Can you hear me?"

There was a slight change in his breathing; he choked, sputum dribbling from the corner of his decayed mouth. His lips moved again, but Waller could hear nothing.

"Graves, talk to me..."

The dying man sucked in air, gasped, and seemed to make a great effort, although the hairless skull remained on its pillow, as if affixed there.

"_Stranger_…" Graves managed to say, in a voice that was barely audible. "_Good stranger_…_please_..."

Waller knelt down, so that she was closer. "Graves, it's me It's Amanda Waller. Do you remember me?"

If he did, he gave no sign. He continued to stare blindly at the ceiling, and he seemed to be oblivious to either her or the man standing behind her beside the door.

"_Stranger...I am...in need..."_

"Graves, it's Waller. Can you hear me?"

"_Stranger…I am ill…and lost…Direct me, I beseech you…to Carcosa_…"

Puzzled, Waller looked over her shoulder at the A.R.G.U.S. physician, who evinced no surprise at the odd words. "Who does he think he is talking to?"

"I don't know. I believe it is part of his delusions, that he's searching again. This is something we haven't heard before until this week, when he slipped into this state."

"Does he think he's looking for his family again?"

Fenderbrake shook his head. "He never spoke of them by name. He seems to be...on a different journey this time."

Waller turned her attention back to the sick man. "Graves, where are you going? What are you looking for?"

Graves didn't reply; only his labored breathing echoed in the room, and the erratic beeps of his monitors. Waller touched his hand, inwardly wincing at its cold, skeletal feel.

"Graves, listen to me! Tell me, what are you looking for? Is it something...something we can find? Something that can...help us?"

As Waller watched him closely, she could have swore that his cloudy eyes swiveled towards her, that those milky eyeballs saw her, and she felt cold. Cold throughout.

"_In...in Carcosa_..." Graves whispered. "_Please...tell me the way...to Carcosa_..._there will everything...everything._.."

Graves breath exhaled, then stopped. That was it. His chest didn't rise agin. Flatlines on the monitors. He was dead.

Waller stood up, her lips pressed together. Fenderbrake stepped forward and flipped some swtiches. The monitors clicked off, shutting off their useless electronic noise.

"We will conduct a full autopsy of course. Although I doubt it will reveal anything of significance."

Waller stared down thoughtfully at the corpse. "Carcosa," she murmured. "I haven't heard that reference before. Has he mentioned it before?"

"Yes, frequently, in the past week since he fell into his delusional state. As I said, he seemed to be searching for this 'Carcosa,' asking for it as if for directions to a place."

"Did he mention any names?"

"No, but we can review the surveillance. Also, you have his notebooks."

Waller nodded. She turned to go, paused and looked at Fenderbrake. "I'll expect your report in the morning."

The man nodded. "You'll have it. I'll take care of everything here."

Waller opened the door and left, relieved to be out of that room, though why, she wasn't quite sure. She'd been in the presence of death often enough before. Graves had been an odd one, but a potentially vital tool for the neutralization of the Justice League. That he had died right now was disappointing, but setbacks were to be expected. Now, she would review every scrap of information of what Graves had already provided, and hope that there was something of use in his ramblings. Whatever 'Carcosa' was, it could be either a false lead...or perhaps an important piece of intel that could lead to their successful objective.

Back in the death room, Fenderbrake sent a call for the body to be removed for autopsy. Once that was done, the body would be cremated on site, and then disposed of in the prison cemetery, since Graves had no living relations left. Unfortunate, perhaps, but it was likely the ultimate end for most of Belle Reve's residents. However, he turned once last time to the body, and noticed Graves had died with his eyes open and staring. Fenderbrake reached down and closed his eyes.

"_Iä_," he whispered.


	16. Chapter 9 - The Imperial Dynasty

**Chapter 9 – The Imperial Dynasty of America Wants You!**

"There is a whole secret cult of evil men (a man of your mystical erudition will understand me when I link them with Hastur and the Yellow Sign) devoted to the purpose of tracking them down and injuring them on behalf of monstrous powers from other dimensions."

- _The Whisperer in Darkness,_ H.P. Lovecraft

_Pear Valley, Northern California_

Norton's Café was not the typical hangout for retired military professionals, or older people for that matter. The café's usual patrons were the kind any coffee shop attracted - college students, a few locals, but especially tourists happening to visit the historic Gold Rush town located only an hour's drive from the state capitol. The café, like the rest of the small semi-rural town (it was just close enough for commuters to be able to live comfortably and avoid traffic), thrived primarily on the tourism trade. Fudge and t-shirt and antique shops lined the downtown where it was located. Also, as Norton's was an "independent" coffee house (i.e. really anything other than a Starbucks) it was furnished according to the tastes of the owners. It had old and frayed comfortable couches and chairs, and long tables so its patrons could sit there for hours enjoying their lattes and enjoy their Internet surfing on their tablets and laptops, socializing with friends, or doing homework or working on their jobs. A small raised stage was at one end of the cafe, offering a venue for live music.

However likely or not, Norton's Café was where U.S. Air Force Colonel (Ret.) Steve Trevor found himself on a late Saturday afternoon, sitting alone at one of the empty tables. He idly fingered a half-finished cup of black coffee, which was his drink of choice now, or rather by default, staring down at the inky liquid. He avoided looking at any of the people coming in and out, wary of being recognized as _the_ Steve Trevor, Justice League liaison (ex-liaison) and Wonder Woman's ex-'boyfriend.' 'Ex' seemed to the suffix, or prefix, to his name lately, he thought ruefully. However, no one seemed to give him a second glance. Either they didn't recognize him, or didn't care. That was more than fine with him. He found that the only 'ex' that really concerned him now was being out of the military. That was a fuck-up entirely of his own doing.

He was "on the wagon" now, as the saying went, although he still didn't think he had a 'problem.' He'd only had the one incident, but in his profession another very true saying was, "one and you're done." He'd been pulled over by the cops just before turning onto the street leading to his apartment, and though he'd blown just at the legal limit, it was enough…for him. The armed forces were suffering from budget cutbacks like any other federal branch of the government, and were looking for any excuse to cut troop numbers. Anyone who'd had even a hint of legal trouble about him or her was first out the door, and it didn't help that Trevor had made many enemies, especially high-up during his tenure as liaison with the Justice League. In the end, it had come back to bite him in the ass.

From then on, it was all smooth rolling straight downhill. "It's tough luck," the Substance Abuse Counselor assigned to his case (a Staff NCO) told him regretfully. "Ten, or even five years ago, this wouldn't have been a big deal but this is a different military now. I remember when we had plenty of functioning alcoholics on the job, and nobody cared, so long as they got the job done and showed up on time..."

"I'm not an alcoholic," Trevor had glared at the man, who only shrugged apologetically.

"Well, it doesn't matter. You have a record now with the police so it's automatic. We can get assign you a class, but even those are all filled up through the next month. The best we can do for you is to expedite your retirement paperwork, so you can be out before you get looked at for a court-martial."

And so it had begun, or ended, rather, after just over 20 years in the service. Trevor made no move to fight his forced retirement, behavior that puzzled his fellow officers, as much as himself. He was lucky he'd made it to that mark, otherwise he'd been gone absent his pension and benefits. But he was getting tired of it, all of it, all the pointless wars, the back-and-forth between him and the Justice League. And Diana…well, he had not spoken to Diana in months, almost a year, he'd guessed. He also felt strangely absent any emotion one way or the other. Perhaps that was one reason he'd chosen to hit the bottle rather than think too deeply about it. He found he just didn't care anymore. She was going her own way, and he was going his. Maybe that was for the best, anyway.

Yet Trevor couldn't help but feel a little bitterness - it finally became clear to him that he had outlived his usefulness and it was the realization had come to others much earlier than to him, was what rankled him. He had received an honorable discharge despite his DUI conviction, and even that, even with his stellar service record, was only possible due to the intervention of certain friends he'd still had in high places. So he retired, and decided to wash his hands of it, despite an offer of a position by Amanda Waller. After she'd outlined some of her ideas and plans to him, he'd ended up declining. There was something about her, her quiet and understated antagonism and cynicism, that made him suspicious of her motives, which he suspected were not entirely altruistic. She seemed disappointed, and he wondered if she was the type to take no for an answer.

He thought not.

But he didn't care. He couldn't care less that he'd become an object of mirth for the idiot shows like TMZ and _Daily World_. What did matter now was deciding what to do with the rest of his life - he couldn't live on the slight pension offered military retirees, and he couldn't think of himself as ready to join the AARP. His sister Tracy had moved up here to northern California to get out of the city, to get the kids into better schools. It meant her switching jobs and taking a lower-paying position, so that now she was struggling to get by. She didn't say so outright but he knew she was relieved that he was out of the military and harm's way, even though it meant that he couldn't financially support her as before. Just that alone gave him some impetus to find new work, and keeping her in mind (after all she'd been through) he'd decided to stay in the area, for awhile at least, help look after the kids. But he soon found he was restless, and needed something to do, besides babysit and dust the furniture for the umpteenth time.

Which was one of the reasons why he was in this café.

On Saturdays, local musicians provided live music, but since Trevor was an outsider here, he didn't know any of them. It didn't matter, it was awhile since he'd gone out to hear music and just kick back (without being at a bar). He supposed the last time was when he'd taken Diana out...but he pushed the memory back out of his mind. He'd come here to relax and not to think about the past.

There was just the one musician up on stage now. He was a short man, dressed in faded Levis and an old-fashioned gingham long-sleeved shirt, as if trying to fit the look of the Gold Rush era. He didn't look like most contemporary singers, with his collar-length lank black hair and rather protruding eyes, but he played very well. He had been setting up when Trevor first entered, and for the past half-hour just played acoustic instrumental guitar, nothing he'd recognized. Some of the people in the café glanced his way and listened politely, or ignored him as they stared at the activity on their smartphones; he was just part of the ambiance. Trevor did the same as he waited , texting Tracy to let her know where he was, reading the news.

At some point, the musician playing guitar on the stage decided to switch from playing instrumental guitar to singing vocals with it, in a good baritone voice, in a rather unusual melody and lyrics. Trevor looked up from the tiny screen on his phone.

_The cloud waves surge, with Hali's tides,_

_The twin suns drop, from uncanny skies,_

_Darkness weaves its spell in Carcosa._

_Black are the stars, strange in the night,_

_And strange moons shine in their realm of night,_

_But not as strange as dim Carcosa..._

Trevor listened with half an ear, but he was intrigued by the lyrics. It didn't seem to be the usual run-of-the-mill ballad so popular today with the kids. Perhaps the guy was doing some old tune from the 1800s, to match his costume...

_The Hyades will praise the King,_

_With melodies that none shall sing,_

_In the silent streets of low Carcosa._

_The song unsung, the words undone,_

_All those who turned away from her two black suns…_

_And who shall care in lost Carcosa?_

_Black are the stars, strange in the night,_

_And strange moons shine in their realm of night_

_But not as strange as dim Carcosa..._

Carcosa. Carcosa. That word seemed to stir something in Trevor's mind, but he couldn't pin it down. Sounded like a place in France. He had been there once...but didn't recall a place named Carcosa. No, he'd heard it somewhere else, but he couldn't remember. It was tickling just at the edge of his mind, which was irritating as hell...

"Steve! Steve Trevor!"

Trevor turned around to see a tall man looking down at him in a gruff yet friendly manner. He was perhaps in his late fifties yet still had the physique of a healthy man twenty years younger. His hair was close-cropped to his skull in the military style (as Trevor's still was) but his was totally white. Instead of making him look aged and decrepit, it gave him an impressive look of dignity and hard-earned knowledge. He extended his hand and Trevor took it, feeling it squeezed in a strong, yet not overbearing way, and released.

"Colonel Robardin," Trevor said respectfully. "It's an honor to meet you."

Howard Alan Robardin was a legend in the Air Force Special Forces community, which was smaller than the other branches, and while it was not as popular or legendary as the SEALS or Green Berets, they had an impressive record of service and success. Robardin had spent thirty years of his life dedicated to that community. He'd retired years ago (before the creation of A.R.G.U.S.), and had a well-deserved reputation for assisting other veterans transition to civilian life, with a special interest for those suffering from stresses and other issues. Despite his own years in clandestine 'black ops,' Trevor had known of him through his reputation only, this was the first time he had met him face-to-face. Robardin had walked in very blank and classified spaces indeed.

"Call me Howard. The honor is all mine," Robardin sat down across from him, putting a large paper cup with a tea bag string hanging out of it. "What're you drinking?"

Trevor smiled, a bit ruefully. He'd once read a well-received article Robardin had once written for a veterans' magazine, about his own struggles with alcoholism and recovery.

"Just black coffee."

"You should try tea. More healthy for you," Robardin's voice still held the gruff traces of command, although slightly gravelly now due to age and perhaps some undisclosed illness. "I drink it all the time, now. Green tea, with honey. Best thing in the world," He fixed Trevor with his steely, unwavering gaze. "But how are you?" Although Trevor had faced tough superiors before, somehow this man made him feel like a boot airman. But it was not in an aggressive way.

"I'm doing well. I just moved to this area with my sister...I am...was...planning to take it easy for awhile."

Robardin grunted. "Easier said than done. You'll soon find sitting on the couch and watching the idiot channels more trying than anything else you've done. You'll try to find things to fill up your time, spend time with family, but even that creates its own problems. You turn into a third wheel. You realize your family's an old hand at coping with your absences, and all of a sudden now you're home all the time. It can be hard for them to deal with, bringing home your problems."

Trevor shifted uncomfortably in his chair. It was hitting little too close to home, what the old man was saying. Once he'd helped Tracy unpack and get every situated just where she'd wanted (or thought she wanted), he found that he had alot more free time on his hands than he expected. He'd found himself getting underfoot more than once, and more than once he'd snapped at her and the kids when they did or said something that startled him...

"It's not a problem," Trevor said, a trifle uneasily. "I mean...I'm not...I don't have PTSD if that's what you're..."

Robardin shook his head emphatically. "I'm not a psychologist, and no, I don't mean to say that you have. But any veteran can feel a sense of loss of place and purpose when he or she separates, no matter how long they've been in. Especially when they fully become a civilian again, and realize that no one gives a whoop about what they've done or seen. Why should they? We don't want them to know any more than's good for them," he gazed knowingly at Trevor. "And no doubt you've seen more than most."

Trevor shrugged, although he didn't feel as noncommittal as his gesture implied. "I did my job."

"Of course you did, son. And no, we didn't expect thanks or a pat on the back. Hell, I'd be happy with a disability check! But I've worked with a lot of vets that struggle daily. Everyone's different. But I must say I'm glad to have heard from you. You're a legend in the community."

"Of course I'm not."

Robardin laughed. "That's what they all say! No one in our 'business' says it about themselves of course, it's for others to say. It's like saying you're a saint or a great artist. No one calls themselves 'hero' either, except maybe for those weirdos in the costumes."

"You don't care for the Justice League?"

"Whatever they call themselves is up to them, I'd say. And I would say they're doing a piss-poor job of stopping disasters, if that's what their 'mission' is. Hundreds of people drowned in that debacle along the seaboard! Tell me," Robardin leaned forward across the table. "Have you ever heard of Delta Green?"

Trevor shook his head. He'd thought he'd studied up on many special ops outfits, but he'd never heard of this one, if that was what it was. "No."

"See? No one still knows, and you've been in as deep as most people. Delta Green was a special force that was first organized back around the turn of the last century, after the Philippine Insurrection. That's another thing most people don't know, that we were at war with the Philippines. It was a nasty business, just as bad as anything in Iraq or Afghanistan, but no one remembers now. Anyway, alot of other nastiness came out of it, and out of that Delta Green was born. Delta Green was active during both World Wars, all around the world, and it's thanks to them - and the Russians - that we're not all speaking German...or _other_ languages."

Trevor stared at the formidable old warrior. "Are they still active?"

"Oh no! No, Delta Green was deactivated after a bad...incident in Cambodia. So that was that. But they were in decline even before that clusterfuck. No, most of those guys - and it was an all-male outfit - are either all dead or in the nursing home."

"Were you...?"

Robardin laughed. "No! I wouldn't rate to polish their boots! No, I wanted to be but...actually, now that I come to think of it, I believe the last man died about 10 years ago. He couldn't remember what he ate for breakfast or the names of his grandkids, but he never forgot a thing he did when he was with Delta Green. And let me tell you," Robardin's voice suddenly turned, becoming strangely chill and cold, suggesting the kind of operative he had once been. "If Delta Green were around today, there would never have been no Justice League, or the problems these 'superheroes' supposedly prevent. _They_ knew how to take care of problems."

Trevor found himself at a loss for words. Why had he brought this up? For some reason he had an urge to just get up and walk out of the cafe, and not look back.

Then Robardin smiled and the chilly glare was gone. "Well, that's old history. No doubt, you don't think you're a hero either."

"No, I'm not."

Robardin leaned back in his chair, fixed him with a gaze that seemed to pierce right through him. Trevor suddenly wondered just how much the old man knew about him.

"You're thinking, what does this old man know about me?"

Trevor was silent.

"All I know is what I see. I don't judge a man unless I look him in the face. I tell you I see a man who's loyally served his country, and been cashiered in the name of economic and political expediency. You didn't deserve what happened to you."

The way Robardin said that, made Trevor unable to look him in the face. He glanced instead in the direction of the strange musician, but he'd stopped singing, and was just playing instrumental guitar again.

"I came here because you said you could help me."

"Indeed, that's up to you. Would you be interested in helping your fellow vets?

"Of course I would be."

"When I retired, I was probably where you're at now, wondering what to do with myself. I was doing ok, but I felt something was missing. I'd hoped to find a quiet, remote spot to retire to, so I moved up here. Actually, I was further up north, in the Pacific Northwest. I found a little valley, an artists' colony, which would have been ideal, except," Robardin winced. "I wasn't an artist, just an old soldier! I didn't really fit in. So I left, and came back down here. But I never forgot it. Then I thought, why not become an artist myself? You have heard of art therapy?"

Trevor was nonplussed. "You think I should...?"

"I have a small theater company in town. Amateurs, but all vets. We do plays and things like that for the local community and the tourists. Shakespeare, all that fun stuff. But I've been thinking it's the time to branch out, be more avant-guarde, whatever the word is. This year, we're going to put on an old play, _The King in Yellow_," Robardin looked closely at Trevor. "Have you ever read it?"

He shook his head.

"I've read it, which is no mean feat, let me tell you, I think it's probably the most rare play in the world! And I've read it all the way to the end! It's a little strange, but it's very cathartic, in its way, and it could benefit people if they saw it performed, live."

"You want me to act in play?" Trevor was astonished. "But I'm not an actor."

"None of us are! As I said, we're all amateurs. But for now, if you wanted to help build the sets, costumes, all that, it'd be something to do, to get you out of the house. There' be a small stipend, too. Would you be interested?"

Trevor thought for only a moment. He knew he was starting to aggravate even Tracy with his hanging around the house all day long, and she was always suggesting he get involved in something. It would do, anyway, to take his mind off...

"All right, I'll do it," Trevor shrugged weakly. "But I don't think you'd care for my acting talents though."

But Robardin beamed, reminding Trevor of his first meeting with a military recruiter, all those years ago. "Don't worry about it! You'll be fine," he showed his teeth, this time, as he smiled. Like a shark, but there was no malice in it. "You will be more than fine. Welcome to the Imperial Dynasty of America!"

"What?"

"That's the name of our theater company. Named in memory of the Emperor Norton, whom this cafe was named after. Have you heard of him? No? Just like so many, he's been forgotten too! Back in the 1800s, he was a failed businessman in San Francisco, who disappeared without a trace one day. Then, he came back. When he did, he proclaimed that was was the true and rightful King - or Emperor actually - of America. A guy like that, if that happened today, he'd be prescribed so many meds he'd be like a zombie on one of those cable shows. But then a strange and wonderful thing happened. People began to treat him as if he really were the Emperor of America. Boxes at the theater and opera were reserved for him. He ate at all the finest restaurants in the city without charge. Policemen saluted him on the street as he walked past. He ordered a bridge to be built from the city to the land across the bay When he died, there was a huge funeral procession. When they went through his possessions afterwards, he had no money to speak of, and left no clue as to what had happened to him. But they eventually built his bridge. It still stands today."

"Oh."

"So," Robardin stood up and spread his hands, as he made to leave. "Even madness can be instructive, and leave great legacies. Perhaps we are all 'mad' from what has happened to us in our careers, you and I, Colonel Trevor, but we can leave a great legacy to be remembered by." He shook the younger man's hand warmly. "Take care, and I'll call you later in the week with our schedule."

Trevor resisted the automatic impulse to salute as the older man left. He was slightly bemused, as to what had just happened. But surely, it was for the best, to get his mind off things.

He glanced back at the stage, as if seeking confirmation, but the musician was gone.

* * *

**For those of you who have read "The Red House" Colonel Robardin is the 'Will Richardson' of this story. Poor Trevor. Since this is AU it's deviated obviously from the New 52 storyline. What if he never joined JLA? There's another principle bad guy to be introduced in a later chapter (this is really stretching on, but thanks for reading, if you're still there). Batman gets to chat with him. Also if you've read RH, then you will recognize the play as one of Mrs. Oates locked up and forbidden books in the basement of the Smallville Public Library. There's a reason why it's there!**

**Is the mysterious musician similar to a certain guide that guides the Amazons in the prologue? I think so. **

**The song he sings is by the band Stormclouds and can be found on their King in Yellow CD.**

**Delta Green was a Call of Cthulhu RPG series, and centered around a type of X-Files/special ops group that went rogue. I've borrowed it for this story's background. **

**The Emperor Norton was a real person, read his story on Wikipedia! He was also featured in one of Neil Gaiman's Sandman stories.**

**Next chapter we'll get back to Superman and the Amazons. We learn what the heck Vanessa Kapatelis is doing on Themyscira.**

**Thanks for reading so far and reviews are appreciated as always!**


	17. Chapter 10 - Inner Lives

**Chapter 10 – Inner Lives**

"Amazons believe in hate. Hatred is sacred to Ate, to Hecate, and Black Persephone, and to Ares as well, whom they call with the nymph Harmonia their progenitor…Amazons believe that mothers hate daughters and daughters mothers, that sea hates sky, and night day. The world is held together by hate, which is in their lexicon a bounty and divine dispensation."

– _Last of the Amazons, _Stephen Pressfield.

Clark gazed with surprise at the tall, freckled red-haired girl, who was beaming cheerfully at him. She was fully dressed as an Amazonian guardswoman, down to the bracelets on her wrists and the sword on her belt (which didn't look if it had ever been used), but from her accent she was clearly an American like him. Well, sort of like him. He felt a palpable sense of relief wash over him – here at least was one woman who wasn't completely antagonistic!

"Kapatelis?" The name sounded familiar to him. "Are you related to…?"

The young woman laughed. "Dr. Julia Kapatelis! Yes, she's my mom."

Clark now remembered where he had heard the name. Dr. Julia Kapatelis was a famous archaeologist, a well-known host of several popular series on the History Channel and public television (his ma had watched them regularly like the clock). But she was perhaps more notorious as an outspoken feminist activist, and could frequently be seen on the late-night talk shows expressing outrage that more women weren't represented in the arts or in academia. Her latest target had been the Justice League itself. He'd watched (with some apprehension) as she appeared on the_ Bill Maher Show _wondering why the Justice League had only one female member.

"It's not a question of _why_, Bill," Dr. Kapatelis had said, in her stentorian voice. "But of whom. A league composed of the strongest our planet has to offer, to - allegedly - protect us, and yet there is only one female? Half of Earth's population has only one representative of its gender!"

That had gotten lots of buzz, Clark had noticed. Batman had ignored it completely but it had brought Dr. Kapatelis to Diana's attention. He knew that they had met several times (and that afterwards Dr. Kapatelis had later spoken quite warmly in support of Wonder Woman), but Clark never had met her.

Clark was still puzzled. "Why are you here?"

"I'm a anthropology graduate student," Vanessa explained. "I'm doing my dissertation fieldwork here, studying Amazon culture and folkways, their 'inner lives' if you want to put it that way. I've lived here in Themyscira for over a year."

She was still looking at him wide-eyed, as if hardly believing she was seeing him. "Wow…I'm sorry but I can still hardly believe I'm meeting you! Here of all places! Oh, and let me just tellyouit'ssocoolwhatyoudobothyouandWonderWomanthe twoofyouareanawesomecouple!AWESOME! And…" She caught herself, and laughed. "Sorry! It's just that…it's just so amazing to actually meet you, Superman!"

"Please, just call me Kal," Clark grinned. He looked down at himself, at the dark-brown tunic he wore. "I hardly look like 'Superman' now."

"You look great! Really! Just like an extra in _Titans Against Rome_!" Kapatelis didn't seem to catch the rueful tone in his voice. A thought occurred then to Clark.

"Um…but why did they send you to get me? Is it because you're not an Amazon?"

"Well, partly. There's only one way to really study the Amazons, and that's to become one of them. I was allowed to undergo the trial of the Iron Rite just as every Amazon does. If I didn't do that, they would never have let me live among them, even though I'm a female," She held up her arms with her bracelets. Clark was curious about that – Diana had mentioned it, but she had never described to him in any detail, other than it was like a coming-of-age ritual. Vanessa continued.

"But yeah, I've been assigned as, ah, your, um, minder, kind of, but also because," She scratched the back of her neck, looking slightly embarrassed. "I think they thought that you might jump on the first woman you saw, right out of isolation, and as a woman from Man's World, I wouldn't mind because of course I'm 'used to it'…not that I think you'd do anything like that!" Kapatelis said quickly. "I mean, you're Superman!"

"Wow," Clark shook his head in disbelief. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised by anything now, but it still bothered him."Is it really that bad here?"

"Oh no! I can tell you I've never lived in such a beautiful place, and being around the Amazons, it's like being among family you didn't know you had. Well, on the good days. Other days, sometimes it feels like a maximum security women's prison! They don't suffer fools lightly, just like Wonder Woman doesn't. You have to be tough to live here. There was another student who came with me, but she couldn't cut it physically, so she went home. I compete in triathlons, so I can just barely keep up!" Vanessa laughed again. "There's just one thing I'm not really any good at!"

"What's that?"

"Fighting! All Amazons are trained in it, since the time they can walk! All I know is, if someone is coming at me with a big sharp piece of metal - I'm going in the opposite direction! That's why my nickname is the 'Trembler' here. Oh well."

"You must have a hard time, then." Clark had once asked Diana if any Amazon could decide not to be a warrior, and she'd stared at him as if he told her Kryptonians could switch gender at will.

"I know it sounds harsh, but please don't judge them too quickly. Wonder Woman told you all about their history, didn't she?"

Clark nodded.

"Let me tell you, these people have long memories, and many of those memories aren't very, well, nice. Heck, their entire civilization is centered on those memories! I've learned things that would make your head spin."

For just a moment, a shadow seemed to drop across Vanessa's otherwise ebullient features, and Clark wondered exactly what those 'things' were.

"But when you think about it, it's lot like a lot of our cultures, too. All the good stuff mixed up with the violence and cruelty and all that. But give them a chance. The Amazons are really a wonderful people. They have a wonderful sense of directness and fairness, and a terrific sense of humor, too. It's mostly black humor, but hey, they know how to laugh! It just takes a lot of time and patience to understand them. I could spend my entire life studying everything here, but I'm only planning to be here for another year or so."

"It seems time right now is all I have," Clark muttered. He looked at Vanessa. "Will you take me back to the palace?"

She smiled again, this time with no embarrassment. "That's what I'm here for."

* * *

The Guardswoman Selene stood on the far bank of the river, with several of her Amazon sisters, watching for the return of the strange visitor to their Island. This visitor, brought back by the Princess Diana from Man's World was now, apparently, a servant of the Queen. How this had happened - and the Princess's relationship with him - was the talk of all Themyscira. Rumors flew faster than dung flung by the the monkeys of the shore-jungles. Selene never tired of listening to gossip, and she listened to her sisters as they talked amongst themselves.

"They're certainly taking their time," grumbled Ismene, leaning on her eight-footer. "You'd think even the 'Trembler' wouldn't dawdle with such a task."

Penelope clenched her spear ever more tightly; even Selene, who stood some distance apart from the younger women, could sense her nervousness, which was practically her only distinguishing characteristic. Selene wondered how she'd ever made it into the Guards.

"Perhaps he's ravished her and left her for dead!" Penelope whispered. "They say that this Man bested even our Princess in battle!"

"Impossible!"

"Then how can he even be here?" Penelope pressed worriedly. "I've heard that he flies and has the strength of a god!"

"How do _you_ know how strong a god is?"

There was just a slight laughter, bubbly and irrepressible, which Selene recognized as Illythia's, because it irritated her so much. She was a tall, handsome woman, her blonde hair piled up atop her head in golden ringlets. She had many talents, other than her natural beauty, both in skilled fighting and rhetoric, and was quite aware of them all. It had brought her to the attention of General Philippus, whose protege she was.

"Perhaps Clay had no choice in the matter," Illythia remarked casually, as if discussing the weather.

Ismene glared at her. Her use of the Princess' old nickname had not gone unnoticed by her. "What do you mean?"

"She has spent many years in Man's World, has she not? Do not men give the orders there? Perhaps she is only doing as this 'Superman' tells her."

Penelope looked uncomfortable. "I have heard that she joined an alliance of men who fight for Man's World..."

Ismene turned her angry look on Penelope, who flinched. "What of it?"

Penelope fidgeted uneasily. "I overheard Gorgo talking in the Council before...before she died. She feared that the Princess was compelled to..."

Her next words where whispered, but whatever she said made Illythia say,

"How _positively_ depraved!"

Only the words came with a following bubbly laugh, which finally made Selene turn around in irritation.

"Enough of that! Best to keep tongue in head if you do not know anything! And you don't!"

"Oh, Selene, we're just having some fun," Illythia fixed her mocking gaze on her superior. "What's wrong with that?"

"Gorgo is dead! And a Man has set his sandal on Themyscira and you want to have 'fun,'" Selene snapped. "I do not see any humor in this. Neither should you."

Illythia shrugged, as if it was no matter. There was something about the woman that irritated Selene, and if she had had her way, that pale thing would not be in the Guard, but the decision was not hers. She was too flippant for Selene's liking, too blithe and there always seemed to be something hidden about her, as if she was concealing something deep inside her. Selene didn't trust her.

Ismene suddenly straightened and pointed. "There!"

All of the Amazons turned to see the boat nearing the shore. The foreign woman Nessa waved at them, the strange man sitting behind her.

Selene remembered the time she had ventured off Themyscira, all those years ago. This man resembled none of those strange creatures she had seen in the Borderlands. If there was ever a warrior male, then this man was it. Even clad in the poor material the Queen had provided, he looked like the very image of a what a god would be. But instead of a fierce or haughty look, this man made an effort to look pleasant and unthreatening. For a moment, Selene could understand what had possessed Princess Diana. She had done her best not to look at him, or to show fear while in the Queen's antechamber, but...

_I must be on my guard, _Selene thought. _Surely he means us harm...surely he is no better than Herakles, or even the King of Alar..._

Illythia observed them cooly. "The 'Trembler' seems no worse for wear. Perhaps Clay's man is no more than a _kinaidos_."

"Don't let him hear you say that!" Penelope gasped. "What if he becomes angry?"

"Then you can fight him first. We will go and warn the others while you sacrifice yourself!" Illythia laughed.

Clark heard them all very well. He leaned forward and whispered to Vanessa. "Those Amazons, who are they?"

"Part of the Queen's Guard. They are here to escort you to the Palace, too. Don't worry, they won't do anything!" She winked back at him. "They will probably expect you to act like a crazy person! Just be yourself, Superman!"

_At this point, I'm not sure what that is_, Clark thought. All he could think of was seeing Diana as soon as possible. As they reached the beach, the four Guardswoman approached, led by a stern woman who wore her hair in braids, her hand on the hilt of her _kopis_. The one directly behind her looked ready to fight also, the smaller one behind her looked ready to keel over in a faint, and the blonde one to her right was actually looking rather - was it speculatively? - at him. When he finally stood up to his full height, they all froze, for a moment, uncertainty in their eyes. For a moment, Clark wondered if they really were there to escort him, or maybe...

Then Vanessa jumped in between them. "Sisters!" She said loudly, grinning. She clapped a hand on Clark's shoulder, so loudly it made the others jump. "Meet Superman! Superman, here are my sisters in the Guard! They've been waiting to meet you all day! Why don't we all introduce ourselves? Penelope, you go first..."

Nessa turned and winked again at Superman as the Amazons stood bewildered. He smiled, and extended his hands. Perhaps he'd have better luck here. It couldn't hurt to keep trying, as his ma always said.

"Pleased to meet you..."

* * *

Diana sat quietly at the edge of the water, outside the purification hut where she had spent the last several days in solitude. She had already dressed herself in the white chiton which was customary to wear once the ritual was completed. She had dressed her dark hair so that it was drawn up and away from the crown of her head. It was the only time she was not obligated to wear her tiara or bracelets, and she felt naked without them, as if she was not wearing anything at all. However, she knew she would assume all the trappings of royal Amazon life soon enough.

She dreaded it.

As she stared out at the still blue waters of the lake, her thoughts were drawn away from this timeless spot and back across the ocean to Man's World. Although it seemed like sacrilege to admit it, it was Man's World that now seemed more like home to her. This revelation had come during the hours of isolation and meditation within the small bamboo hut. The quietude was so intense that it was almost deafening, almost painful. She imagined she could still hear the wails of sirens, the noises of machinery and automobiles, the drone of the TV and Internet stations, and the endless throngs of people, as though they were right here with her on this little sandbar. It was only after the most intense meditation and prayer that the phantom noises went away. But then she found herself wanting only to be back with Clark, to hear his voice and feel his embrace. She couldn't help but wonder, how he was faring, in his own experience of isolation? Was it like being in the Fortress? Was he thinking of her? Was he regretting, now, coming here and dealing with her mother and sisters? Was he even regretting – and Diana couldn't help it – his relationship with her?

She knew she shouldn't have these thoughts but that was part of the ritual wasn't it – to permit such thoughts to enter into one's mind, and then allow them to pass away, as toxins passed through the body. But she couldn't think of her thoughts of her husband – of Clark – as a thing to be discarded. He was irrevocably part of her now.

Diana's hand drifted again to her stomach. She was certain that she could now feel the life within; it was so much more noticeable than when she'd first had the realization back in Smallville. Even here was literally a part of Clark inside her. But now, that knowledge, so thrilling, so exciting when she'd first experienced it, had struck her in these past days like a heavy weight, filling her with apprehension rather than the joy she'd first experienced. She'd lain prostrate on the white sand within her hut, shivering, almost paralyzed with a fear she couldn't comprehend. She had forced her mind to push the fear away, then she had tried to understand it. What had happened to her?

Of course it was natural, she told herself, to feel apprehension. Of course the fear of childbirth, whether the child would live through the birthing process, was something all women, even the women of Man's World, faced. She was no different from them. In the Fortress, Clark had confessed to her of his fears of whether he would be a proper father, and Diana realized that she had similar fears. But fear was something Amazons were trained to overcome, whether on the battlefield or in childbed. It was expected...and it was expected that an Amazon would bear a girlchild, and raise it to become an Amazon like her...but boys...boys were...

Someone came up behind her and Diana turned her head, expecting to see one of the Amazon guardswomen come to fetch her back to the palace.

Instead it was Hippolyta. Alone and without escort, wrapped in a plain white woolen cloak.

Diana turned back around silently, looking again towards the water as her mother sat down next to her, as casually as if they were two women meeting in a café in Man's World.

"You are not pleased to see me, daughter?"

"I was expecting someone else…mother." Diana replied, a bit more shortly than she intended, but Hippolyta did not take offense. In fact, she seemed a bit amused.

"Such a sour tone! And so soon after the purification! I thought the ritual would calm you, but as usual, you always do the opposite."

"Perhaps a better nickname for me would have been 'Contrary,' instead of 'Clay.'"

Hippolyta looked at her daughter. "Are you still angry with me?"

A long moment passed, then Diana finally shook her head. "No, Mother. I am not angry."

Hippolyta smiled, then. "You were always a bad liar, Diana. No need for the rope of Hestia to know that."

Diana stirred. "Why are you here?"

"Could it be that I just wanted to spend a moment alone, with my only child, with no one else around? To speak with her as mother to daughter, instead of as a Queen to subject?"

_Possibly, but not damned likely,_ Diana thought.

Nevertheless, when Hippolyta gently brushed stray strands of hair from her forehead, Diana leaned against her mother, memories of shared warmth and comfort coming unbidden to her mind. Hippolyta gently put her arm around her body, pulling her close. For a moment they sat like that together looking out at the still water.

"My little moon and stars," Hippolyta murmured, in wonderment. "So hard to believe, that she is going to be a mother herself soon."

_Ah, so that is why_, Diana thought. _You want to know everything._

"How...far are you?" Hippolyta asked, and her voice was uncharacteristically gentle.

"A month, or more," Diana said, trying to keep a tremor out of her voice. "I learned when I was in Smallville."

"Was this your intent?"

"No...I mean...we didn't plan it. It just happened."

"Ah," Hippolyta said.

Silence for awhile. Diana realized what she must sound like. _Just like my mother,_ she thought.

"I am happy for it," she murmured. She wanted to sound defiant, but it felt like she was justifying it to her mother. "Clark...Kal wants it, too."

Hippolyta arched an eyebrow. "If it is a boy?"

"No!" Diana glared at her mother, hearing the implication in her voice. "A boy or a girl."

Hippolyta looked away. "It will be a girl," she said a certain finality in her voice. "I am sure of it."

"The whole Island must know by now," Diana muttered, wanting to change the direction of their talk.

"Of course. Even a Queen knows better than to stifle gossip."

"So – when am I to be banished?"

"Oh, do not be so melodramatic! Of course, you know, you have sent the Council into a flutter, but it doesn't take much to do that nowadays. Old Philippus was nearly apoplectic, but it also doesn't take much for her. I daresay that this Superman is the chief subject of gossip, rather than your exploits in Man's World."

Diana pulled away from her mother's side at that, and glared at her. "Why?" She demanded.

Hippolyta stared back at her innocuously. "Why what?"

"That little scene you cooked up back in the palace? Putting him under your compulsion? Just what are you planning?"

"Planning? I am not 'planning' anything. I assure you I have no great scheme, as are common in Man's World…"

_And you, too, are also a bad liar, Mother!_

"…But I must learn for myself what kind of man he is. Oh, yes, you've told me endlessly that he is a good man, and no Herakles waiting to strike. Well, perhaps it could be true. But a mother must see for herself, to protect her daughter, just as one day you will want to protect yours. If he is a good man, then nothing I ask of him will cause him humiliation. I am his mother-in-law, after all," Hippolyta's voice was sardonic. "But If there is anything you have not told me about Superman, then this is the time. I am quite aware of his powers, but there are stronger powers in Themyscira. You saw it for yourself, when you fought the abomination in Man's World with Gorgo."

She stared intently at Diana then, and Diana then saw Queen Hippolyta before her. She knew then that if she only gave the word, or even a hint, her mother would have Clark slain out of hand. Or would try to. She would do such a thing. The knowledge made her shudder, but at the same time she felt an immense relief – she would not do anything to Clark without that word. She stared at her mother directly.

"I have told you everything, mother," Diana replied quietly. "There is nothing I have hidden from you. I am not afraid. You should not be either," she added. "Kal means no harm to our people. He does not believe in killing, not even his enemies."

"A rare creature indeed," Hippolyta murmured.

The Amazon Queen's expression did not change, but she thought, _It is just as I feared. She is too far gone. Should I tell her of the prophecy of the King? Would she believe me if I did? She certainly has reason not to believe anything I tell her, not after what I revealed to her about her father. So then I must act quickly, send word to the Getai. _

Hippolyta nodded. "Then…your husband has nothing to fear here." She stood up, re-wrapped her cloak about her.

"Come, let us go back to the palace. Your Kal-el must be waiting for us there by now."

At the mention of her husband's name, Diana quickly stood up, and Hippolyta noted her hurry.

"What happens now?" Diana said in a low voice.

"Now? Now is time to eat. We dine tonight at the palace, and your husband is welcome to join us."

Diana stood, but she was suddenly wary. "Us?"

"Just a little family dinner, to break the fasting of the ritual. You, Kal-el, myself...and the Council."

Diana groaned. "Oh, mother! They will only ask endless, prying questions!"

Hippolyta looked sternly at her daughter. "As they should! That is why they have their seats there! Besides, they are like family, you've known them all your life. They will want to know what you have been doing, how you are. Don't sulk! Part of being royalty is to always be present to those you rule."

"I haven't been 'royalty' for many years," Diana muttered.

"So it is high time you resumed you true calling," Hippolyta grasped her daughter's arm. "Come, let us return."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Hopefully will have chapter 11 up soon. Clark and the Amazons together again...will he be called upon to do the dishes? What has Vanessa learned about the Amazons? What is the prophecy?**

**Also Batman-centric episode coming up again, and second major villain introduced. **

**Please review :)**


	18. Chapter 11 - The Prophecy

**Chapter 11 – The Prophecy**

Clark tried to fix in his memory the path their little party of Amazons (to include grad student and alien) used to return to the Queen's palace. They traveled by a circuitous route because the senior Guardswoman, who had muttered that her name was Selene, didn't want to expose them to the stares and gawps of others, or so she said. She led them along a path through the brush, and then around the back alleyways of the capital, up the hill towards the imposing palace.

The Amazons had provided him with one additional piece of clothing: Clark now wore a long cloak with a hood, of the same rough drab wool as his tunic, so that he looked like a medieval monk. However, he thought it highly unlikely this disguise would fool a three-year-old, much less a sharp-eyed Amazon. All of the Amazons, Vanessa included, were statuesque, but he still towered over them, plus he was bigger. Still, he pulled the cowl over his head, and tried to hunch down as much as he could, but no one saw them.

Clark didn't mind. All he cared about was to see Diana soon (he hoped she would be as glad to see him, considering how they had parted), and despite his awkward circumstances, felt himself in a good mood. He had attempted to talk to the Amazons, and was encouraged that they seemed to be willing to talk back, instead of giving him the silent treatment as when he first arrived.

"Are all the men of your tribe like you?" Illythia asked. She definitely acted the most friendly of the group, albeit a bit in the way Jimmy Olsen's girlfriends acted 'friendly' to him, during the times that Jimmy was out of earshot.

"There are no other men like me," Clark said, and hastily added when he saw Illythia's raised eyebrows. "I mean, all my people were destroyed in the destruction of my homeworld, Krypton."

"A tragedy," the blonde Amazon murmured, giving him a sidelong look, as if she did not quite believe him.

"How come you to meet our Princess Diana?" Ismene could hardly believe she was actually speaking to a man.

"Several years ago, Earth – or Man's World, as you call it – was attacked by an alien named Darkseid. She came out to fight him, joining us…"

"Us?"

"The Justice League. We're an organization of people with certain abilities and powers which we want to use to help people."

"A warrior brotherhood, which you have allowed the Princess to join?"

"She wasn't 'allowed' to join – she is actually one of our founding members," Clark wondered at the hostility in Ismene's tone. What did they already know about the Justice League? "She was the only woman at first, but we're opening up our ranks. She won't be the only female for long."

"Is…is it true you are the Princess' consort?" The nervous one, who called herself Penelope, asked. Like the others she was constantly on her guard around him, but she gradually seemed to lose some of her anxiety, once she realized that he wasn't going to bite her like a rabid pit bull. The question was blurted out, and she almost looked as if she wished she could take it back; Clark saw from the others' reaction that they wished she had not asked it.

"I am…her husband," Clark answered cautiously.

He could see how that very word disturbed them. No doubt it had especial negative connotations here. Before he could say anything, Vanessa jumped in.

"Superman is respected and loved by everyone on Earth! Men and women, he fights for all of us. The Princess couldn't have made a better choice!"

_Not quite everyone, _Clark thought. The other Amazons appeared all at once confused, angry, and disturbed by the thought of their Princess bonded to a man in any way. He wondered how much trouble this fact was going to cause on Themyscira.

"Then…she belongs to you now." Penelope said desolately.

"No, not at all! Diana…Princess Diana is no one's property, and certainly not mine! We're partners."

Selene, up ahead leading them, snorted audibly.

"You don't tell her what to do?" Penelope asked in surprised tones.

"No," Clark said. _Well_ _I do sometimes, _he thought, _not that she listens. _But he could hardly tell them that. "I'm not her boss."

"'Boss' means like a lord," Vanessa added helpfully. "Superman is not a lord."

"But your title is 'Superman,'" Ilythia pointed out. "Doesn't that mean you are superior to all other men?"

Something about they way she said that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Not in the way you think, it's only because of my abilities, which human men don't have."

"Ah," Illythia smirked. "And how…enhanced…are these 'abilities'?"

Fortunately, Clark was saved from answering when Selene ordered them all to be quiet now that they were approaching the palace. A massive stone gatehouse rose ahead of them, and another Amazon guard awaited them there. Selene wasted no time in ushering Clark on through, but the others stood didn't follow. Clark turned to look at Vanessa before he left.

"Thank you, Nessa, you've been a great help," he said gratefully, and she almost blushed at his words.

"Oh, it's nothing, Superman, but thanks! Queen Hippolyta will want to see you immediately, so I can't go accompany you. But good luck and I'll see you soon!" She held up her crossed fingers, and Clark grinned.

Selene watched the strange man disappear down the corridor, while the others began babbling amongst themselves about what he had told them, and bombarded Vanessa with questions. She remembered the last time when a man was on the island, that man from the flying ship. This 'Superman' reminded her of that man, but this one was much more self-assured, and had no fear of the Amazons. Also, he had not tried to fight them, which the other man had attempted to do, with poor results. Could he really be different? Selene thought she was a good judge of character, and this man had given her no reason to think he was deceptive or false. She had been raised from birth to think all men were excellent liars.

Selene, now, was no longer sure.

Clark could barely maintain his slow pace behind the Amazon guardswoman, as she led him through the corridors of the palace. The acoustic dampening effect was unchanged, and although he could not hear or see Diana, he knew she was here. He wanted to run to her as quick as he could but forced himself to remain patient. The palace was enormous; there seemed no end of wide marble and stone corridors and archways, lined with statuary of sculpted women in heroic or athletic poses, and decorated with cultivated flora. Martha Kent would have loved just that part alone.

Finally, they reached a large circular chamber, decorated with inlaid mosaics on the floor of a hunting scene, columned all the way around its perimeter, and roofed with a glass dome that revealed the sky flawlessly. Clark barely noticed any of it, as he pushed back the heavy woolen cowl that covered his head.

There were three women standing together in the center of the circular room, dressed in long, white Grecian-style gowns. They turned as he and the guardswoman entered. The guardswoman bowed her head in respect, but Clark froze upon seeing Diana. He had never seen her clad in her traditional costume, her dark hair elaborately dressed, strands of gold and ivy woven through it. She wore her silver bracers and tiara, and her upper arms were also adorned with gold circlets. She was impossibly beautiful and it took his breath away.

Diana, in turn, stared at him with mixed shock and yearning; probably it was the weird clothes he was wearing that accounted for the former, but it was the latter which won out. He had only a millisecond to notice that, and then they were both in each other's arms, clutching each other tightly.

"Diana!" Clark pressed his face into his wife's neck, breathing in her scent hungrily, feeling her arms encircle his arms. "You look incredible!"

He felt her tightly grasp his shoulders, pushing herself back to see him. Diana looked both immensely relieved and dismayed at the same time.

"Clark!" she cried. "What is that you're wearing?"

He laughed. "I promise you, I'm not leaving to enter a monastery!"

"Oh, you look so…so poor!" Diana pulled him back to her with a surprising intensity as if to comfort him, as if she saw he had broken bones instead of just wearing ugly clothes.

The dampening effect didn't prevent him from now hearing the two heartbeats emanating from her. It filled him with an inexpressible joy.

"How is our baby?" Clark whispered in her ear.

"Strong," Diana replied without hesitation. "Growing stronger every day."

Suddenly, Clark remembered they weren't alone. He looked over Diana's head to see the other two women watching them closely.

Queen Hippolyta looked as handsome and imposing, even more so perhaps, than when he first met her. Beside her was another woman, who had a passing resemblance to the late Gorgo, only she had more of an olive-tone to her skin, and was dark-haired instead of blonde, but it was also shot through with strands of silver that gave her a certain elder dignity. Like Hippolyta she appeared to be in her middle-age, though Clark suspected that she could be thousands of years old. Instead of looking outraged over Clark and Diana's behavior, they both seemed somewhat amused, as if watching the antics of two children. As Clark and Diana broke apart, Hippolyta spoke first as they approached.

"Greetings, Kal-el. It seems our purification rite has agreed with you. Kal-el, this is a member of our High Council, the lady Eurydike."

If Eurydike seemed shocked or surprised by the presence of a man in the palace, she gave no outward sign of it, nor did she seem unfriendly. She only nodded her head slightly in greeting, which Clark tried to copy, and looked at him curiously, if rather intently.

"Welcome, Kal-el, to our little Island," she said. "I trust the purification rite was not too strange to you?"

"On the contrary, it was very relaxing, ma'am," Clark replied. "I'm honored to be a guest here."

Eurydike nodded her head again, apparently satisfied with his reply. Hippolyta also seemed pleased with his answer.

"Kal-el has agreed to learn something of our ways during Diana's return," she explained. Clark could feel Diana stiffen beside him.

"That is commendable," Eurydike remarked, and then turned her attention to Diana. "Princess, your mother has shared with us your good news. I rejoice with you."

"Thank you, Eurydike. You are always my honored elder," Diana murmured.

"A feast has been prepared for your return," Hippolyta said. "Kal-el, you are welcome to join us and the rest of the High Council."

It sounded definitely more like a command than an invitation; Clark hoped he could speak as well as he did with the Amazon guards.. He nodded, again. "Thank you, your Majesty."

"While you are here, call me Hippolyta," the Queen smiled. "After all, we are 'family' now."

Diana again seemed to bristle, but Clark slipped a hand into hers reassuringly. He quickly glanced at Diana's face, but she was keeping her emotions carefully under control. He felt her fingers squeeze in return, in a way that meant, _Be on your guard._

"Thank you...Hippolyta." Clark said.

"Very well. Eurydike, shall we go on ahead? I am sure our two children would prefer some time alone together. We will dine in half an hour."

With a nod to Clark, the other older Amazon walked away with the Queen.

Clark exhaled in relief as the two left and took off his uncomfortable cloak. He turned to Diana, who was again staring unhappily at his garb.

"I must see about getting you dressed properly," she muttered.

"I doubt you have any clothes for men my size here," Clark joked. "Maybe you'll have to sew it yourself."

Diana ignored his teasing. "It is wrong for my mother to dress you like a slave."

"I'm not a slave," Clark smiled. "I'm a son-in-law...which may be almost the same thing, come to think of it. Let's not worry about my outfit. How are you feeling?" His hand pressed against her stomach.

"I'm fine. The purification rite went well for you? Truly?"

"I enjoyed it very much, actually! Well, except for the part I had to take off my suit in front of your sisters. Nurse Ratched insisted on taking it away right there!"

"Who?" Diana was puzzled.

"Movie joke," Clark said weakly. "I don't suppose I'll get it back until we leave."

"The lower profile you keep the better maybe. You would stand out here too much! I doubt my mother will want you to fly anywhere, or demonstrate your powers," Diana shook her head in consternation. "I'm so sorry..."

"Hey," Clark thought Diana looked near tears. "It's all right. What's wrong? Did something happen...?"

"I'm sorry I shouted at you, before," Diana grasped her hands tightly, looked at him imploringly. "Please, Clark...forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive," Clark knew it was very hard for Diana to apologize for anything. Her pride was so strong, it could almost be a weakness in her, he knew. Even Batman thought so, too. "I'm not angry with you."

Diana abruptly pressed herself against his broad chest. "I can't help it. During the purification rite...all I could think about was you and the child. I kept thinking if something happened to you..."

"Shhh," Clark murmured, stroking her dark hair. "I'm okay. You can see that."

"I should never have asked you to come. It was selfish of me. I didn't think-"

"Stop, now," Clark interrupted sternly. "You didn't do anything wrong. I don't know what Hippolyta said to you, but there's nothing to apologize for!"

Diana took a deep breath. "It's what my mother hasn't said! I swear, if she tries to hurt you..." Diana couldn't finish the thought.

"Nothing is going to happen to me, or to us," Clark insisted. "Whatever your mother can throw at me, I can take it!"

Diana wasn't consoled. "My mother is devious, Clark! She won't use force to hurt you, but she will find some other way to break us apart, I know it!"

_There's some real mother-daughter dysfunction here, _Clark thought. _It must be pretty bad. But I've got to try to help resolve it, for the baby's sake, if nothing else. The last thing he or she needs is all this drama._

"Diana, don't worry," Clark said. "I love you. Nothing's going to change that. Nothing's going to break us apart. We've been through so much together, already."

"There's so much that you do not know about us," Diana said miserably.

A unbidden memory jumped into Clark's mind just then. Batman, on the Watchtower, questioning him. _Does Diana have any scars?_

What had he meant?

"Well then," Clark said carefully. "I'm sure I'll learn. Maybe at dinner. I'm looking forward to meeting more of your people, believe it or not!"

Diana said nothing for a long moment. Clark bent her head closer to hers.

"Promise me not to worry? Worrying's not good for the baby!"

Diana finally sighed. "All right, Clark," she conceded. "I won't worry. Getting through this wretched dinner will be worry enough."

* * *

The High Council convened early in the banqueting room, minus General Philippus who was on duty. The elder Amazons were still stunned and grieved by the news of the death of Gorgo, and then came the news that the Princess Diana had returned to Themyscira, bringing along another man...and on top of that they learned she was with child. It was like an earthquake had rumbled through their island, and they were trying to pick up the pieces.

"You have already heard, sisters, of this man the Princess has brought to Themyscira?" Cyanna said. She was already thinking of how her midwife skills might be best utilized. A practical woman, she thought mostly of what was needed in the present.

"Another man that the Princess has brought to the Palace!" Kwaian shook her head. If she was on earth, her features would have been called somewhat east Asian. "When shall it end? This is becoming a habit of hers!"

"Apparently he is not like the other man which she befriended," Adaeze said, reading from a small papyrus scroll detailing the man's strange history; she and the General Philippus were both ebon-skinned, the color of dark river earth. "The last survivor of an race from beyond the stars. Princess Diana says his parents put him in a vessel that traversed space and landed in Man's World, where he was taken in and raised by farmers in a land called...Kan-sas."

Laodice scoffed loudly. Of them all, now Gorgo was gone, she was the most traditional and conservative, other than the Queen herself. "A likely story! Sounds more like he was exposed at birth, just as the old Spartans did to their halfwitted young."

"No, she said his people were destroyed in a cataclysm of their world."

"Then even worse, he descends from a race of halfwits, who didn't know enough to appease their gods to prevent their doom!"

Adaeze tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Why this man, though? Was he not taken already? He is older than the Princess. Surely that is unusual even for Man's World?"

"Hah!" Laodice slapped her thigh. "So not even the silly women of Man's World desire this halfwit!"

"Might be that the Princess feels sorry for him, then."

"Aye, Diana always did have tender-heartedness, especially as a girl," Mara said reminiscently, wrapped in her warm tartan plaid, the work of the Getai tribe in the north of the Island, to whom she belonged. "Do ye remember when she brought that abandoned baby centaur into the Palace, and demanded old Gorgo help her nurse it back to health? Oh! Hippolyta was so angry!"

Some of the Council members laughed at the memory, desirous of some levity in these clearly unsettled times.

"This is a different situation altogether," Laodice said sharply. "The Princess is with child of this creature, who is not an ordinary man!"

"She is well into childbearing age," Cyanna pointed out.

"Och, she is still too young!" Mara shook her head. "She is still a child herself!"

"I shall trust the Princess' judgment. Diana may be impetuous, but she is not foolish. If he has earned her trust…then perhaps we should give him the opportunity to at least to earn ours."

"I like it not," Laodice said implacably. "Neither does Philippus. You all know the prophecy of the Sybil."

"That prophecy only pertained to the King of Alar, if sets his foot on Themyscira," Adaeze ventured. "He never will, he is a coward. It is just another old story, one among many."

"We don't know if she meant Alar...perhaps this Superman intends to be King here!"

"I say the prophecy is nothing more than an old story which should be discarded, just as the prophecy of the destruction of Themyscira after Diana's birth by the Gods. That came to naught."

"And what else should we discard? The ban on men is already broken. People from Man's World live here now!"

"They are women," Cyanna pointed out.

"Still, it is a dangerous precedent."

"We should consult the Sybil again," Adaeze advised. "At least, we should learn if we need to make propitiatory offerings."

Before Laodice could reply, Queen Hippolyta and Eurydike swept into the room. Eurydike had become one of Hippolyta's chief advisers, now Gorgo was gone, and she was known to be much more liberal than old Gorgo.

"My Queen," said Laodice as the other Amazons bowed respectfully.

"My sisters," Hippolyta announced. "Princess Diana will join us for a feast to break her purification fast. Her man, Kal-el, will join us."

The other Amazons exchanged bemused glances. Such a thing was unprecedented! They wondered at Hippolyta's apparent calmness.

"Is that wise, Hippolyta?"

"Diana assures us he can behave himself," Eurydike gave a tight smile. "And he does seem to have the proper manners. We must deal with him sometime. Let us try to make it a pleasant occasion."

The other members of the Council exchanged glances, realizing this. Laodice shook her head.

"As long as he doesn't lose his head over the wine," she grumbled.

* * *

Although Clark and Diana would have vastly preferred to be alone, they knew they couldn't avoid this feast. Ordinarily Diana looked forward to these events, in the past they had always been times to freely talk and laugh, enjoying the company of her sisters (she was much younger then and they always made her feel like she was finally coming of age), but now her enthusiasm was not so great. Clark was nervous as well, but hoped for the best. He still thinks he can convert them, Diana thought in wonderment. She herself only hoped the night would end soon, and without a fight (these were also known to have happened at feast-time).

Clark and Diana entered the room, seeing Hippolyta and the others already assembled, dressed in their finest gowns. It only made Diana wish again she could have done something with Clark's clothes, but he didn't seem to mind how he looked. At least he was clean, and although he didn't have time to shave, his beard wasn't that noticeable.

Diana knew all the members of the Council since her childhood, and liked all of them, even though they almost always sided with her mother, but Cyanna and Eurydike in the past had occasionally spoken up for her whenever she had gotten into trouble or fights. They were passionate about the truth. Laodice along with Gorgo and Philippus were stolid and conservative, as were Adaeze and Kwaian. Mara, of the Getai tribe, always tried to make her laugh when she was upset, by telling her absurd stories from her sisters. Only tonight Philippus was absent, which to Diana was just as well. The old warrior would probably never consent to even breaking bread with a man.

"Diana," Cyanna extended her arms. "It is so good to see you again!"

Diana stepped forward and embraced and kissed each of the older women in turn, as they cooed over her and exclaimed over how much she had grown - what a strong warrior she looked! How well! Clark waited patiently, and as he expected it didn't take them long for their greetings to be over and their attention all focused on him.

"This is Kal-el, my friend and my husband," Diana introduced him without any preamble.

As he had done to Eurydike he gave a short bow, keeping his eyes on them. "I'm honored to be here. Pleased to meet all of you."

Hippolyta must have prepared them, since they seemed to keep their shock (and disgust, no doubt) well-checked. They stared at him, not overtly friendly, but not giving him the evil-eye either. Like the other Amazons in the capital, they regarded him cautiously, like an animal from the zoo that could possibly go wild and rampaging about.

"You are...welcome to our food and drink tonight," Cyanna said cautiously, when the others didn't seem able or willing to speak. "Please...come and dine with us."

The banqueting room was like a private room in a fancy 5-star restaurant, Clark thought, but in this case the banquet room was laid out with couches in a semi-circle, and he realized that the Amazons would dine reclining, like the ancient Romans, which he had never done before. He carefully watched the members of the Council arrange themselves, noting that he was on the far end, next to Diana, who was between himself and Hippolyta. Laodice was beside the Queen, the Celtic-looking Amazon Mara beside her, Cyanna and Eurydike, Kwaian and Adaeze at the other end.

"How do I do this?" Clark whispered quickly to Diana.

"Just lie on your side, prop yourself up on your elbow," she whispered back.

Clark was amazed at the heaps of food that was now brought out by the guards. He had never seen cuisine like this before, even at fancy dinner parties at Bruce's mansion, the one or two times he'd been there (purely as a member of the press; Bruce had never thought to invite any of his Justice League colleagues to one of his high-society soirees). Roasted peacocks and hares, haunches of what he thought smelled like vension, shellfish and white fish brought in silver kraters, huge bowls heaped with olives and rice pilaf. Amphorae of wine was brought out. Golden plates and bowls were set before each diner and the wine was poured liberally. Iced sherbets and apples were offered for dessert. The guards retreated, all but a few, who took up instruments and played softly.

"What do I do now?" Clark whispered urgently.

"Eat!"

Clark tried to, but despite the munificence of the fare, he mostly picked at it, apprehensive that the Amazons would start grilling him about himself, but their questions were mostly directed at Diana, at what she had done and seen while in Man's World, and thankfully mostly ignored his presence. The Amazons in their turn ate - and drank - liberally, including Diana, who soon forgot her initial reservation and began settling into a conversation about Man's World. When she described the technological gadgets he'd always taken for granted (cellphones, cable TV, Internet, heated toilet seats), they seemed at once amazed and repelled. Diana didn't seem to mind answering their questions (as long as they didn't ask about him or the baby). Clark tried to listen to everything that was said, although for some of them, the one who looked Celtic especially, their accents were so thick he had some trouble understanding them. The food though was very good, and the wine too, although he rarely drank since alcohol had no effect on him; the wine tasted mostly fizzy to him. So far, so good. They asked about Gorgo, about her final battle at the Red House, and the circumstances of her noble death. Diana described the battle as much as she could, evading the details about the monster itself, and when she described Kal fighting, they then began paying attention to him, nodding appreciatively. They clearly appreciated a good fight story, even if a man was involved.

Finally about a half hour into the feasting, Laodice asked,

"What has become of that man you left with, Diana? Is he dead?" She might as well asked if she had killed him, after all.

"Steve Trevor is still alive. He has retired from the military and gone to live with his sister's family, that is all I know," Diana replied shortly, not looking at her. It was clear she didn't want to talk about him.

Laodice nodded, as if the answer was what she expected. Then for the first time she turned her attention to Clark.

"You...your name is Kal-el?"

Clark quickly chewed and swallowed his food. "I am sometimes called just Kal. 'El' is my family house name. Clark Kent is the name my Earth family gave me."

"You are nobility on your homeworld?"

Clark paused. He didn't want to appear like he was putting on airs. "My family was respected," he replied simply. "But my family on Earth was too."

"The princess says they were farmers."

Clark nodded. "They were good people. They taught me to be the man I am today."

Some of the Amazons paused in their eating and discussion with one another, began paying attention to the conversation between him and Laodice.

"Very good. We have Amazons that work the land, too. Most of our children are raised there in the countryside, not in the city," Adaeze said. "May I ask you a question about yourself...Kal?"

"Of course."

"Diana says you have the strength of thousands of men, and other...powers. Why do you not rule Man's World? Surely you are stronger than all their armies."

Silence immediately descended in the room. Diana looked suddenly very uncomfortable. Hippolyta was watching with interest.

"I have no desire to rule like that," Clark said without hesitation. "That's not who I am. I am not a god. I'm only a person."

"But you use your powers on behalf of this...this 'Justice League.' So you do not hide them and pretend to be a simple man. Why do you use them, then?"

"I use them to make my world a better place, to help people," Clark explained. "Diana does the same thing, like everyone else in the League. It's not used to force people to do what we want."

"But with such noble aspirations, you could prevent many more terrible things from happening, if you took control of Man's World, would not that be right, to end wars and suffering?"

All the Amazons seemed to be listening even more intently, if possible. There was some underlying intent in that question, Clark realized (his journalist's instinct was still intact), but he didn't know why.

Clark shook his head. He had already seen where that path led. Jor-el's teaching modules in the Fortress were quite thorough and explicit, presenting him with dark and horrible visions of what would happen to his adopted world – and to him – should he ever make the wrong choices, and take the road paved with good intentions. They had horrified him like no enemy ever had.

"My family raised me to be humble and not force my beliefs on others. My biological parents also taught me not to use my powers to control others. It would only end in tyranny, even if it I thought it would be for the common good."

"Very commendable," Laodice murmured, staring down at her couch.

Hippolyta examined her wine bowl thoughtfully. "I shall tell you something, Kal-el, something only a few Amazons know. Only the members of this of this Council know, and a few others. Not even the Princess knows this."

Diana's head shot up and she stared at her mother. Hippolyta ignored her and went on.

"There is a very ancient prophecy, given by our Sybil - a kind of holy woman, if you like - that once a King sets foot on Themyscira, then all the Amazons and our way of life would perish. Our Sybil prophesized this thousands of years ago, not long after we first came to this Island. That is one reason why we never allowed men on the Island. Of course, no king has ever come here, only the occasional shipwrecked sailor or pirate. Certainly not king material. Then Major Trevor crashed here in his flying ship. Still, he wasn't like a king. Now, you are here. You are most like a king out of anyone that has ever been to Themyscira..."

"Half the time what Menalippe spouts is drunken nonsense!" Diana sputtered, in shock. "Why do you bring this up, mother?"

"The Sybil prophesied your birth," Hippolyta nodded at her daughter. "She even predicted what a terror you would become, even when you were in the cradle!"

"She also claimed Themyscira would be wiped out by Hera," Eurydike shrugged. "We are still here. The Gods have never shown their face since Diana's birth, or longer than that."

"Kal-el, do you have intention of becoming a king here?" Mara asked bluntly.

"I certainly have no intention to become king of anything," Clark protested. "I'm a citizen…I don't believe in that monarchy stuff!"

All the Amazons stared at him then.

_Whoops_, thought Clark.

"I mean…I…I do respect your traditions here," Clark said awkwardly. "I know I'm not a part of them…I'm just visiting, after all, to be at my wife's side during her pregnancy. I swear, my intentions are not hostile towards you. If you wanted me to leave now, I would, although it would hurt Diana and me."

Before Hippolyta or anyone else could reply, Cyanna got up from her banqueting couch and crossed over to Kal's, carrying an amphora. A hush descended on the room as she held it out before him and Clark held out his bowl, thinking he understood what she was doing.

"If you love and respect our Princess," Cyanna poured him the wine. "Then you shall have our respect…and our trust."

"I will earn your trust," Clark said humbly, somehow understanding that the Amazon had offered him some kind of olive branch.

"Good," Hippolyta said. "You shall start tomorrow."

* * *

_Night on Themyscira - On the Cliff_

Illythia stood on a high cliff watchtower overlooking the ocean that girded Themyscira and sheltered it. There was a full moon, and she hardly needed her small lantern to see the waters and the lights of the city below her. Such a beautiful view! She wished she had someone to share it with, but she was at a solitary post. How tiresome it all was! No one had ever attacked Themyscira in thousands of years. It was a tedious watch. She breathed in of the warm, salt air, thinking, thinking.

She couldn't get the image of the man she saw out of her head. He was much taller, and more handsome than she expected, and his drab tunic only enhanced his natural beauty. So tall he was, with his broad muscular chest, and legs like pillars. She was only a child when she had seen her first man, that soldier Diana had captured in the forest. By contrast, he had been older, and much uglier, with his close-cropped hair like a slave's and his brute features. He was weak too; she had seen Clay lead him behind her on her horse, through the streets of the capital. But this one, oh he was so much different...he would never let a woman lead him on a rope, not even Clay!

A noise behind her, and she whirled around, irked at being interrupted in her reverie. But it was only General Philippus, come to check in on all the guards on duty. The old woman never shirked her duty for a minute. Her armor was gleaming, clean and flawless, the sword at her side would be sharp.

"General," Illythia snapped a salute, half-mockingly. "I thought you would be at the Queen's little party tonight!"

"Illythia," she said bluntly, ignoring the remark. "You were part of Selene's party today. What did you think of this man?"

She smiled, showing her pearly white teeth. "Quite impressive! He's quite a dream, is he not? So tall and built like a gladiator! I can see why Clay was attracted to him."

"Oh you do, do you?" Philippus grunted, stepping forward and warming her hands at the fire. "You would surrender yourself to a man as she did?"

"Of course not. He would surrender to me, not the other way around," Illythia shrugged. "Surely men are easy to manipulate, especially handsome ones, or so I have read. Flatter them, and they will be yours."

"It will take more than flattery to overcome this 'Superman'," Philippus told her. "Much more."

"Should we overcome him, then?" Illythia said thoughtfully. "I wonder how that would come about..."

"We must make it come about," Philippus said. "I can tell that Diana will not willingly give him up, and Hippolyta will be unable to convince her."

"Should we care what Clay does with her toys?"

"You should care what become of your Princess," Philippus snarled at her protege. "If the child she bears is a boy..."

"Ah, yes, that old prophecy, story, whatever," Illythia did not seem overly concerned about it. "What if it is?"

"The prophecy says it shall. We must do what we can to save ourselves. Now, girl, listen to me..."

_Night on Themyscira - The Palace_

With an uncharacteristic grunt, Clark reluctantly pulled himself off of Diana, leaving her lying on her back on the bed, frustrated and bewildered. He swung his legs over the edge of their bed, not able to look at her as she turned wide eyes on him.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I guess I'm just too…too distracted tonight."

"It is no matter," Diana said soothingly, gently touching her husband's naked back. But she wasn't surprised at her husband's confusion. This had never happened before, in Metropolis or Smallville. She had heard that it sometimes happened with men, that it hurt their pride, but she didn't think it could happen with Clark.

"I hope your mother didn't put something in the food," Clark grunted. Diana couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"I don't think she would stoop to even that," Diana scooted closer to him. "Perhaps it is only the…strangeness of this place that upsets you."

"Or maybe you did marry a 'rabbit' after all," Clark looked glumly down at the stone floor.

"I didn't mean what I said," Diana pushed herself off the bed, wrapped a linen cloth around her waist. She moved over to the open balcony, gazing at the full moon that gave its light over the capital, and illuminated their bedchamber. "It was only…ahgh! I didn't mean for it to be like this!" She clutched her arms.

Clark looked at her. "Like what?"

"I mean…oh, Clark! When I lived here, I always dreamed of what it would be like to visit other places, even if they were dangerous. Then Trevor came, and I saw the chance to leave, I jumped at it. I thought it would be grand adventure. My mother and sisters – you heard them! They're so filled with the old stories, those old superstitions…I couldn't wait to get away! Then, when I lived in Man's World, and Trevor thought I was in love with him, or could be, I missed Themyscira."

"I understand. I felt the same way the first time I left Smallville. I love Metropolis but I missed Smallville alot. I thought I could go back and live there again, but it was not the same. Even if we didn't have that horror in the Red House to face."

"When I came to Smallville, your friends welcomed me with open arms. Your neighbors, Lana..." Diana clenched her fists. "Here, I can only hope they try not to hurt and humiliate you. Now I cannot even give you comfort."

"Oh, Diana," Clark stood up and took his wife in his arms. "Don't let it trouble you."

"I thought you would be troubled," Diana held his arms. "Instead you show such patience to my sisters..."

"Well, I think we made progress at the dinner. That one lady, Cyanna, she looks like she might give me a chance. I met Vanessa Kapatelis today," he told her of the guards' party.

Diana only grunted. "That Penelope, she will die of fright at her own shadow! Watch out for Illythia, she is a snake in the grass, if there ever was one."

Clark smiled evilly, then. This might work! "Perhaps, then I shouldn't be allowed to be tempted by that little blonde piece. However, if I don't find relief, somewhere...well..."

Diana turned to look at him, glaring daggers. "Relief? Relief is what you want? I will show you 'relief,' you Kryptonian barbarian!"

She snarled and shoved him back on the bed, mounting him firmly as he fell backwards.

This time, there was no problem.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Next chapter, another Batman-centric episode, then Clark works (for minimum wage of course) for Hippolyta, and runs into someone he never expected to see on Themyscira - except in his nightmares ( can you guess who it is?)**

**Please review!**


	19. Chapter 12 - An Unexpected Face

**Chapter 12 - An Unexpected Face**

_Themyscira – The Capital_

The Guardswoman Selene walked silently along the streets of Themyscira's capital; behind the Palace sprawled the homes of the Amazons who labored in the capital and its surroundings. She carried her plumed helm under one arm, her red cloak wrapped about her against the first oncoming chill of the evening blowing in from the sea. She ignored the calls of market vendors, the tempting smells of cooked meats from their open-air grills, and the hails from familiar faces; usually when she went off-duty she would visit a tavern and mingle with her sisters, but not tonight. She kept her eyes downcast, her mind sunk deep in thought. She didn't look up until she reached the little dwelling she shared with her longtime companion, Berenike.

Their modest home was neatly and sparsely furnished within, as befitted warriors unaccustomed to luxuries. Several types of weapons hung along the walls, with a few tapestries providing the only color touch of decorative color. A small shrine dedicated to Athena Ergane was set back in one alcove, adorned with flowers and offerings. Oil lamps lit the interior, providing enough light so that Berenike could work her loom. The _clackety-clack_ of the vertical loom stopped for a moment as she welcomed home her partner.

"Selene," she said. "You are back early. Has something happened?"

"I am assigned a new duty," Selene tossed aside her helmet and cloak aside on the couch, shook out her hair. "As the Princess' maidservant."

"Surely it is an honor to serve the Princess?" Berenike raised an eyebrow, noting her partner's tense and unhappy expression. "Why such a face?"

Berenike's arm had never fully healed from the battle in the Borderlands, in spite all of Cyanna's and her healers' skills. Since she could no longer fight, Berenike had resigned from the Bodyguard. Where others might have thrown themselves off Themyscira's high cliffs in shame and despair, Berenike had adopted a philosophical attitude about it, turning her skills instead to weaving, for which she showed a remarkable talent. The clothing and tapestries she produced on her loom were highly prized throughout the island.

"Have you not heard of this man Princess Diana brought here? The Queen has permitted him to live with her in the Palace itself! Since I will attend her, no doubt I will be seeing him daily as well. I never thought such a day would come in my lifetime." She plopped down gloomily in a chair.

"Mmmm," Berenike resumed her weaving. "Yes, this 'Kal-el,' or 'Superman' so he is called. Of course I have heard the news, it is all over marketplace. I have not seen him myself, but I have heard that he is quite handsome, well-mannered, and also," Berenike looked sidelong at her old comrade. "That he is quite well-endowed."

Selene only grunted and poured herself a cup of wine. A large cup.

"So tell me, is the gossip wrong? It usually is!"

"No," muttered Selene. "I have seen and heard this man talk myself. Everything that you have said is quite true, except I know nothing about the 'endowment' part."

Berenike laughed, but Selene continued to look dour. "So what is it then, Selene?"

She gulped the wine. "I simply do not understand! How can the Princess do such a thing? Does she care nothing for our history, our traditions? Why the Queen and the High Council have permitted this is beyond my comprehension."

Berenike worked her wool thoughtfully. "A Guardswoman's duty is not to question but to obey..." she quoted.

"Yes, yes, I know! Still, if the Princess wanted this man with her, why not just put him in the dungeons? At least then both she and the Guard would know where he was at all times..."

"Ah, so is that it? You think this man will betray the Princess and get up to trouble? I'm sure he can cause quite a bit of mischief, with that face."

Selene could tell Berenike was being subtly mocking. "No, that's not it," she said sullenly. "I was in charge of the party that escorted him back from the purification. He was alone with the Trembler and did not molest her...I think. He spoke seemingly. Then, in the audience with the Queen, he agreed to serve her during his stay here."

Berenike shrugged, threaded her wool. "So then, the Queen accepts it. What is your concern?"

Selene poured herself a second cup, and one for her partner. "I...don't know. I feel the same as when we departed for the Borderlands all those years ago. That same...foreboding, only it seems stronger. This is a bad omen."

Berenike stopped weaving and got up, accepted the proferred cup. She gently gripped Selene's hand.

"You are afraid," she murmured. Only Berenike could say such a thing to Selene and not get a fist in the face.

Selene squeezed her lover's hand. "I am not afraid of this 'Superman'," she whispered. "I do not know what it is. Only that I am."

Berenike had no answer. They sipped their wine together in the quiet room, thinking of what this new change portended for them and their Island.

* * *

_One Month Later..._

Wonder Woman (or the Princess Diana, daughter of Queen Hippolyta and Zeus Soter, heir to the throne of Themyscira) walked wearily to her suite of chambers in the Palace. She was wearing her ivory-white royal gown, now somewhat disheveled since this morning, when she had risen before dawn to attend with her mother yet another daylong session of hearing petitions from her Amazon subjects. It was part of the 'royal duties' she would one day assume, or so Hippolyta said. A monarch must be accessible to her subjects, and that meant the hearing of petitions: everything from disputes over grazing and horse ownership rights to setting bartering quotas for grain and produce, down to the resolution of niggling conflicts between sisters over even the most trivial matters. But it was the right of any Amazon to bring her problem to her Queen. It bored Diana to tears, but even the slightest hint of balking by her had brought down her mother's rebuke.

"You will be Queen here one day," Hippolyta had scolded her. "It may not be for another thousand years, or it may be tomorrow! You must do your duty without complaint…"

Upon which followed another one of her mother's lectures on 'duty' as if Diana didn't know what that was! Listening to her sisters bicker and complain (even to the point of using their fists) in the audience chamber made her long to be back in the company of her fellow Justice League members, to the point of thinking that even the company of Green Lantern (whom she'd caught ogling her on more than one occasion) would be vastly preferable. At least they would be doing _something_. Then it made her feel guilty that she would prefer the company of men to her fellow Amazon sisters.

But she was just sitting there beside her mother, who made all the judgments. She hardly even had the opportunity to interject her opinion. Her mother wanted her only to watch and listen, as if she had not done that plenty of times in the past. Then there were her sisters, who either did their best to ignore her presence, or look at her askance, as if she'd done something unmentionable (well, in a way she had). All the memories of when she widely known as 'Clay' seemed to have come back with a vengeance; even though she was older, some of them still acted her as if she were a stripling not yet admitted to the Iron Rite. Plus the news that she was pregnant (now at least two months now, according to Cyanna) made some of them behave around her as if she were the alien, not her husband. And as if all that were not enough, the nausea and fatigue were hitting her much stronger than she'd expected. It was an Amazon's point of pride to ignore the physical discomforts of pregnancy, but Diana was beginning to discover this was easier said than done.

As Diana entered her spacious well-appointed rooms, her maidservant bowed deferentially. Strange, how when she was growing up she'd never thought twice about it, but ever since living in Man's World, it made her feel a little awkward now that someone would bow to her like that. Her husband's egalitarianism rubbing off on her, no doubt.

"Does my lady desire anything?"

The servant was one of her mother's Bodyguard, a warrior named Selene, whom Diana knew had been tested in combat years before she'd even picked up a sword, and once traveled with her mother off the island. She always seemed so serious to Diana, but at least she had never been rude. Still, Diana had no doubt she reported to her mother everything she witnessed between her and Clark!

"Goat's milk and figs," Diana replied. It was what she chiefly craved for, lately...alot.

"At once, my lady."

Diana took her tiara off (even that seemed to feel heavier) and tossed it aside on the _kline_, a long rectangular couch laden with cushions. She sat down, rubbing her temples, grimacing. She looked down at her bump - she thought it was definitely growing larger, although not so much that it showed prominently under the gown just yet. She wondered just how big she would get...

She smelled him before she saw him. She turned just as Clark's arms enveloped her, and his bristly face roughly scraped her bare neck as he nuzzled her.

"Mmm, you look and smell good!"

_Unfortunately_, thought Diana, _the same can not be said for you_! But she knew that it wasn't his fault - that was her mother's doing.

Clark was dressed only in a man's rough woolen chiton, although it was now stained and filthy with grime, just as he was, revealing his long, muscular legs and arms. He had grown his 'fur' back, to Diana's dismay, but at least it had ended the Amazons' salacious marketplace gossip that he was actually a eunuch. Despite his appearance he looked strong and healthy, as if he had spent quality hours in the _gymnasium_ instead of laboring in the muck. Incredibly (to Diana's mind) looked as happy and energetic as she felt glum and tired. His hands traveled up to her shoulders and tried to pull her closer, playfully, but Diana pressed her hands against his chest and pushed him away.

"Oh, Clark, not now! I have a headache."

Clark fell backwards on the couch as Diana scooted away from him, and he wondered (not for the first time) if he'd come in at the wrong time again, when his wife was having one of her "mood swings" (he'd taken care to study up on the symptoms of pregnancy before coming to Themyscira, not quite believing that Diana's demigoddess status would make her immune).

"You never had headaches before," Clark said with concern.

"I've never been pregnant before," Diana grunted, then she took a deep breath, knowing she shouldn't be taking her frustrations out on her husband. She began again."How was your day?"

"Busy! I think your sewerage infrastructure needs some major renovation, they're thousands of years old, after all. At least all the gunk's cleaned out of them! No dead bodies at least, just crocodiles..."

Diana listened with half an ear as Clark described his day. Diana was reminded that, during the past weeks, he had also cleaned out the enormous royal stables, mucked out the granaries, repaired the harbor, and located and fixed various structural cracks and damages in all the major buildings in the capital. These tasks were all assigned by Hippolyta (without Diana's input), but Clark accepted them without complaint. He was thorough in his tasks, as if he were treating this like an assignment for the defunct_ Daily Planet_.

At first, the Amazons reaction to his presence in the capital was one of muted hostility; only kept pacified by their Queen's imperious command, they either ignored Clark or limited themselves to slinging catcalls - and stones - in his general direction whenever he came into sight. Since he took no notice of them (and the rocks just bounced off him anyway), curiosity gradually began to replace their innate dislike. Or rather, it was subsumed enough so that, slowly by ones, twos, and then more, they gathered to watch this strange man bustling away at his work - it was certainly a rare spectacle, anyway, to see a man no matter the circumstances, and this was no ordinary man. As word spread that Diana's man really did have godlike strength (they witnessed him lifting the giant harbor pylons out of the water, plus an trireme that had sprung a leak and sunk centuries ago), the crowds grew yet larger. Some even began bringing hampers of food along so they could comfortably munch on bread and drink while they were entertained by the sight of a man (a _handsome_ man at that) laboring on their behalf; then the food vendors also turned up to take advantage of the crowds. It became almost like a kind of holiday. Inevitably the news reached the palace.

"Outrageous!" General Philippus had proclaimed indignantly. "He is making a spectacle of himself!"

"He is only doing as my mother ordered," Diana interjected, but the old General was adamant.

"My Queen, it is best if he is kept out of sight," she insisted. "He is disrupting business in the capital!"

"It isn't Kal's fault my sisters have nothing better to do than gawk!"

Diana was just irritated as the old general, but before they could argue Hippolyta entered her interjection, apparently unconcerned. "Very well, then we shall find him something else to do."

That 'something else' turned out to be Themyscira's maze of underground sewer tunnels. This had preoccupied him for the past several days, and unfortunately left him smelling rather...aromatic. But it had solved the crowd problem, at least for now.

"I hope you are done with them," Diana muttered. "I could smell you coming before I saw you! I will talk to my mother about-"

Just then Selene appeared with the milk and figs. She saw Clark sitting next to the Princess, stiffened, then set the bowls on the table before Diana and left again, quickly. Clark glanced at the food she brought.

"Wow, those figs look good! I haven't eaten all..."

Before he could move, Diana pounced on them ravenously.

Clark sighed. "Anyway, the work's not that hard. I think your mother's already forgotten that I was raised on a farm! I've been doing chores since I can remember. This is just the same, only a little bigger of course. What about you?"

Diana gulped at the milk, chewing as she talked. "At least you can get out. I'm stuck here in the palace all day. It's like my mother doesn't want me out of her sight."

"I'm sure she's just concerned about the baby, too."

Diana eyed him over the bowls. "Cyanna examines me every day. She says the child grows quickly…it takes much energy from me, so I suppose I tire more easily now."

Clark scooted closer to her. "Are you in any pain? Your breathing and heartbeat seem all right to me..."

Diana finished her food, and pushed herself back from the table, falling back on the bed, her eyes closed. "I'm fine, do not worry. Amazons don't make such a fuss over pregnancy."

_That wasn't really an answer, _Clark thought. He leaned over her. "Diana, if you're really uncomfortable you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"

"Mmmmm..." Diana murmured. Clark thought it sort of sounded like an affirmative, but before he could quiz her further, she rolled over on her side, her back to him, and promptly fell asleep.

Sighing again, Clark returned to the table and looked hopefully in the bowl, but all the figs were gone, only a few crumbs left. Clark wondered if he could sneak down into the kitchens without having it turn into a four-alarm fire...

Clark looked up and saw that Diana's maidservant had re-entered the room, watching him quietly with the same poker face which apparently was her only expression. He recognized her as one of the guards who had escorted him after the purification retreat...Selene, he remembered the name. Although she was always solicitous of Diana's needs, she never spoke to him and avoided even looking at him whenever possible; she definitely tried not to be in the same room with him when Diana wasn't there. Her eyes now moved slowly from Diana to him, watching him carefully.

_Jeez, I wonder if she thinks I strangled her now, _Clark thought, but Selene didn't move, just stood there, as if waiting for something. Her silence made him feel a bit awkward.

"Um, Selene, isn't it? Do you think it would be okay if I went down to the kitchens to get something to eat? I won't bother anyone..."

To his surprise, Selene nodded and then actually spoke. "No need for you to go yourself. I shall bring whatever you wish to eat."

"Oh. Well...thank you. Anything's fine, I'm not picky."

Selene didn't move, though, and Clark thought he could hear her heartbeat increase.

"Before I go...may I...ask a question of you...Kal-el?"

Clark's eyes widened. The way she spoke suddenly reminded him of when he was still working for the _Planet_ and trying to interview the residents of the Suicide Slums about their living conditions. At first no one would give a white male reporter the time of day. Then, eventually a few had worked up the courage to speak to him once they thought he was legit. Selene sounded a bit like them. He realized she must have been working up the nerve to finally talk to him. He nodded encouragingly, knowing this had potential.

"Yes, of course."

"What do you think of Themyscira?"

Clark was surprised; it wasn't the question he'd expected, he thought she would ask about his powers.

"Well," he said slowly. "It's very impressive..."

"What I mean is...I have seen how my sisters curse you in the streets. They throw stones at you. Throughout it all, you've never complained or retaliated. You must think very poorly of us."

Clark shook his head. "No. I mean, I don't like being shouted at of course, but I know I'm not welcome by everyone here. I know the reasons for it. I don't hate the Amazons. I hope my behavior will show you that I mean no harm."

"On the contrary," Selene said bluntly. "It frightens me."

Clark stared at her, stunned. "But why? Surely I haven't demonstrated anything to alarm you?"

"Everything I've been taught, all my life, is that a man will not hesitate to avenge his honor if he feels he has been insulted or wronged. That a man will not hesitate to kill or punish those who stand against his will, whatever it may be, even if it may take years. I have seen men before, Kal-el, and know this to be true," Selene looked at him, and Clark thought he saw something like dread in her eyes. "Would it be the same for you?"

Clark felt he had heard this before. He had heard the voices of random humans, and whether it was in some inner-city bar or in the corridors of the Pentagon, they were similar: afraid, uncertain...of Superman. The voices said, _What if this Superman turns against us? Yeah sure, he's a good guy now, but what if he changes his mind? What's going to piss him off? _It always kept him in mind of how fragile his relationship with humanity could be.

"In...Man's World, people have the same fears about me. I don't know your own experience, Selene, but I'm not that kind of man. My ego isn't so fragile I have to attack people who insult me. I told your Queen I will earn her trust. I will try to do the same with your people. If I can't, I will accept that too."

She stared at him. "Men have said that before."

Clark took a deep breath. "Yes, Diana told me all about your history..."

"It is not just _history_ with us, Kal-el...it is alive for us. I will tell you of my experience - I tell you, you are not the first man I have seen. I have traveled off the island, with the Queen years ago, when the Princess was yet a babe. I saw men who spoke like...like you did. But still, we were attacked."

Clark's curiosity was piqued. "What happened?"

Listening to Selene tell her story, Clark was astonished. Clearly, Themyscira was not some isolated pocket, as he'd thought. What other Amazons might have stories like Selene's? But apparently the end result was the same - distrust and fear of men.

"Selene," Clark said as sincerely as he could when she'd finished. "It may be impossible for me to change your mind about me...but please believe me on this at least. I've only come here because of Diana, not for any other reason. I'm not here to change your world. That's up to you all."

She hesitated, then looked at him intently. Clark couldn't tell if he'd convinced her or not, but at least that slight glimmer of fear in her eyes was gone.

"You must...care for our Princess very much to endure all this." She spoke as if she was surprised at her own realization.

"I love her," Clark said. "I would only fight if she were threatened."

Selene nodded. "As I would."

"See? We do have something in common after all!"

Clark thought he saw the faintest twitch of a smile on Selene's face, but she still kept her strict guard's face up.

"Thank you, Kal-el. I will...keep that in mind."

She began to leave, and then a thought popped into Clark's mind, now that he had Selene talking.

"Can I ask you another question, Selene?"

"Yes?"

There was a question that had been on his mind almost from the beginning of his stay here. He had tentatively tried asking Diana, in a roundabout way, but she would either change or veer away from the subject somehow. Perhaps if he asked Selene...? It couldn't hurt.

"Why are there no male children of the Amazons?"

Selene stared at him, with an expression Clark could not quite interpret, but he pressed on. "I mean, I haven't seen any in the weeks I've been here. I know Amazons can bear children, so surely there must be some..."

"Kal-el, there are certain questions you must not ask while you are here," Selene said quietly but firmly. "That is one of them."

"Is it because..."

She turned away. "Thank you for answering my question, Kal-el," she said sincerely. "I will bring you your food...and some hot water to bathe with."

She hurried off before Clark could say anything else. He crossed his arms, deep in thought. A puzzle here...but he wondered whether he should pursue it. There was no red flag louder for a journalist worth his or her salt than to be told that there was a question they could not ask. Still, he was a guest here and obviously this issue was something of a taboo. Perhaps Vanessa could help him with finding out more...

His back was turned to Diana, so he could not see her lying behind him, her back to him, awake, her eyes open.

* * *

_The Next Day..._

Miss Lois Lane, Editor-in-Chief of the _Daily World_, the celebrity magazine with over 300 million (online) subscribers worldwide, staggered into the stone barracks, forcing herself to put one foot in front of the other. She felt like she was traipsing through knee-deep mud. She only had to make it her cot (actually a thin pallet on the hard dirt floor), then she could collapse into what she prayed would be blissful unconsciousness, hopefully for a nice, long time. But she doubted it. The sun had already risen above the horizon.

It was her second week on Themyscira.

Lois had done everything she could to prepare for this "groundbreaking, historic trip" (which was how she had sold it to her paper). She quit smoking and went on an intensive heath and exercise regimen. Although already slender, she toned up considerably, put on some muscles, and even ran the Metropolis Marathon, finishing it in respectable time. Her partner Tyresa had been incredibly supportive throughout the entire process. She'd hooked Lois up with her own personal trainer, a Krav Maga black belt and former Israeli commando, who broke Lois down and built her back up again. She did CrossFit. In a short period of time, Lois found she could do hundreds of pushups and situps, even up to ten pull-ups! She also gave a good showing of herself in the gym against other female MMA fighters-in-training.

All this so that Lois could survive a month-long trip to Themyscira, the famous 'Paradise Island' of the Amazons, the homeland of Wonder Woman. Only a few women had ever been admitted to go, part of a "goodwill" exchange instigated by the superheroine herself. She would be the first journalist, and it would be _her_ account that would be published, with an exclusive of course going to the _Daily World_.

Tyresa was reluctant to see Lois go. "You'd better remember to come back, now, girl," she'd admonished Lois on the evening before departure day, wagging a finger in her face. "I don't want to be reading about how you found yourself a new lady among them Amazons!"

They had both laughed, and said their goodbyes (and said them quite passionately too)! But even though Lois hated to leave her girlfriend, she was tremendously excited to be going on this trip. No other assignment had quite excited her as much.

Leaving was only the beginning of the mystery. Themyscira had no formal embassy anywhere (many nations still refused to believe it existed), and Lois soon discovered that her liaison was none other than the famed 'celebrity' archaeologist Dr. Julia Kapatelis. She was a small, thin woman with in her early fifties who walked with a cane, and was just as blunt-spoken as her TV persona.

"If that's your luggage, you can dump it," She pointed at Lois' carryall. "They won't tolerate anything from Man's World there. I hope you have a good memory, because any notes you plan on taking will be in your head!"

Lois had wondered how exactly she would be traveling to Themyscira but Dr. Kapatelis didn't provide any map; then had led Lois through a narrow series of backstreets in Metropolis, puzzling her.

"Are we going to Themyscira or an afterhours club?"

But the gray-haired woman only smirked. Eventually they arrived at some nondescript office building, gone down a couple of flights to some equally bland office. Kapatelis didn't give a "secret knock" or anything like that, but simply rang the bell. A young, dark-haired woman opened it. Lois stared at her; she had a slight resemblance to Wonder Woman, but more than anything she looked like any ordinary front-desk receptionist, if a touch foreign.

"Hi Donna," Dr. Kapatelis said. "This is Ms. Lane."

"Oh yes," This 'Donna' had replied. Her voice also sounded ordinary, with a hint of an English accent. "I've been expecting you."

Dr. Kapatelis and Donna then led Lois into a sparsely furnished room, furnished only with a computer table and laptop, and decorated with a few old posters of exotic locales on the wall, like it was some bare-bones shady travel agency. Lois was confused.

"What the hell is this?" She exclaimed. "I thought I was going to leave today."

"Miss Lane," Donna said, smiling. "Your journey has just begun!"

Then everything had gone black.

When she regained consciousness she was lying on the dirt-floor inside some crude stone building. Her business attire was gone, and in its place she was wearing only a thin linen garment which she'd later learned was called a _peplos_. Dr. Kapatelis and Donna was gone as well, and instead she saw three other women, dressed the same as she was, huddled against the other wall, looking around wide-eyed in shock as they also seemed to be just waking up.

Lois sat up, rubbing her face. "What's going on?"

"Hell if I know," one of the others said. "Last thing I remember is..."

Just then, another woman appeared in the doorway of the building, and there was no doubt she was an Amazon. She was tall, her arms and shins encased in armor, and she apparently did not have a single ounce of body fat. Her face resembled that of an angry female U.S. Marine drill instructor, with a voice to match. She barked something at them, which in Lois' beginners' Themysciran was an order for them to get the hell up and get outside.

Lois staggered to her feet and confronted the scowling woman. "Hold on, we're not going anywhere until you tell us where we are, and just who the hell are you?"

Usually the direct confrontation served her very well as a reporter (you couldn't be timid in her line of work). The corners of the Amazon's mouth seem to twitch upward in a ghost of amusement, and to Lois' surprise she replied in rather passable English.

"Welcome to the isle of Themyscira. My name is Amynta. And I am in charge of your worthless hides while you are here!"

With that she punched Lois in the gut, and she'd promptly dropped like a sack of hammers.

That was the first day. The first week was a blur of activity, much of it physical. The Amazons seemed intent on testing their new 'guests' limits of physical and mental endurance, just as if they really were in a boot camp...or maybe some kind of torture camp, judging from the endless exercise, forced marches, and lessons in Amazonian culture, including their somewhat (to Lois' mind) execrable cuisine imposed on them. They appeared to want to try to break them, to prove that they were the "weak and silly" women of Man's World and undeserving of entrance into their great city. They were kept in the stone barracks on the outskirts of the capital, and not allowed to venture further out. To emphasize this point, armed guards were always present with them.

"We have been isolated for thousands of years and we have liked it that way," Amynta told them. She always treated them with the highest disdain, as if she really were a DI. "We know that the women who remained in Man's World are weak, and were even so, before we came to sacred Themyscira. If you wish to live among us you must prove yourselves."

"What is this, 'Survivor: Paradise Island'?"

Lois had objected to Amynta's observation as admittedly she had never journeyed to Man's World herself, and so quite logically she was incapable of making such an overgeneralized observation. Amynta agreed, to a certain extent, and then politely suggested that Lois take another forced march through the jungle, at night. She was very insistent on it. Lois had just returned from that. As she collapsed, she wondered how she could have thought she was really in shape.

The three other women, Captain Alicia Yu, a Marine Corps reserve captain, Maggie Rodriguez, an Air Force supply officer, and Shaniqua Garvey, a professional mixed martial arts competitor, huddled over a pot heated over the firepit in the center of their barracks, which served as their only means for cooking food and boiling water. They were each dressed like Lois was, in the most basic Amazonian gear, in a sleeveless linen tunic that reached past the waist, and leather leggings, with a kind of rope-belt the Amazons called _astereia _cinched around the waist, which their hosts explained could be unwound and used as a kind of all-purpose tool. As they watched Lois stagger in they looked at each other and smirked. They'd seen Lois Lane on the_ Daily World _show and the frequent appearances she made with her partner, the actress Tyresa Wallis. She was fair game as a "celebrity." Also she was always lagging behind, as the worst in shape of all of them.

"Well, hell-lo Miss Lane!" Captain Yu said in tones of exaggerated jollity. "Nice of you to join us!" She strutted over to where Lois was collapsed on the ground and bent over her. "Can I get you anything? Maybe a smoothie?"

The other women in the room laughed, while all Lois could do was open her eyes and glare. It was a running joke. On their third day here, their Amazon hosts (guards) were sharing a jug of some thick liquid and generously offered a sip to Lois when she asked what it was.

"Come drink with us!" One of the Amazons called out. The others didn't move, but Lois wasn't one to hang behind.

"Don't do it," Yu muttered under her breath, but Lois ignored her and stepped up. She was writing about this experience, after all. She took the jug the woman held out.

"Hey, an Amazon smoothie!" Lois was happy to have anything to drink besides boiled water, and tried it before her companions could stop her. The Amazons laughed uproariously when she gagged. "What the...what the hell is that?"

Amynta smiled. "_Yourte_. It is fermented mare's milk. You will not become a true Amazon unless you learn to love it!"

Hilarity again, while Lois bent over and retched.

"No smoothies here," Maggie said. "Hell, I bet that shit would give you a good buzz though."

"No thanks," Shaniqua shook her head. "We'll be lucky if we all don't die of _e-coli_ poisoning! Did you see what they gave us to eat last night?"

"Good thing we're not vegans..."

Lois closed her eyes, too tired to even tell Yu to go do something obscene to herself. She just needed a few moments of shuteye...but in the next moment Amynta's voice rang out.

"Lois!" She shouted. Her accent made her name sound like _loo-wees_. "Get up! You're coming with me."

"What now?" Yu said. "Can't you see she's sleeping?"

Amynta glared at the barely above five-foot tall Chinese-American woman. But probably out of them all, Yu was the least intimidated by the Amazon warrior. She was raised in Long Beach.

"The Queen demands your presence, Lois."

Silence descended upon the others, and Lois' eyes flew open. The whole reason why she was here on Themyscira, to try to get an interview with Queen Hippolyta, here was her chance. Forgetting her tiredness in flash, she was up.

"I'm up. When are we going?"

"Now. Follow me."

Amynta turned on her heels, and Lois hurried after. The other women left in the barracks looked at each other and just shook their heads.

"What's so big about interviewing the Queen?" Shaniqua said. "Why hasn't offered to interview us?"

"I guess the Queen will sell more than you!"

Shaniqua and Maggie looked over at Alicia, who stood in the entranceway, watching.

"What's up?"

"Why do you think the Amazon Queen wants to see Lois and not the rest of us?" Alicia asked, more to herself than her companions.

"'Cause she's famous?"

Shaniqua frowned. "The Queen reads _Daily World_?"

"Heaven help us if that's where she get's her news about 'Man's World!'"

Lois Lane followed her Amazon guide through a path that only she seemed to see through the forest. Lois could see the city getting nearer, but then Amynta took a parallel track, pointing out what looked like a horse ranch ahead of them. A small stable, horses grazing in their paddocks. Amynta grunted that the Queen was in the barn.

"She wants to see you alone."

Puzzled, Lois went on alone. As she entered the barn her eyes gradually adjusting to the dimmer light. Then she saw her, the Amazon Queen.

Lois realized suddenly she had no idea what Queen Hippolyta looked like; of course there were no photos available anywhere. There was only one other person in the barn, but it was immediately evident that she was Hippolyta. An older woman, who had a very strong resemblance to Wonder Woman, with the same powerful and graceful build. She wore a similar tiara, but other than that she wasn't dressed like a queen, but wore a simple armored skirt and the same sleeveless plain tunic Lois wore. She was brushing one of the horses as it chewed its hay. She didn't look up as Lois entered.

"Ah, Miss Lane. May I call you Lois?"

"Um…of, of course your Majesty."

Lois had interviewed important people before, but never before someone like Queen Hippolyta. Usually when Lois interviewed VIPs, she liked to have the interview conducted so that she could be look her best, in a location convenient to her, but everything was totally out the window here. She was tired, her hair was a mess, and a still a little culture-shocked. She would have to wing it the best she could.

"Tell me Lois, are you familiar with horses?"

"Not much."

In fact, Lois had done dressage for a couple of summers when she was a teenager, but she was sure that was probably not what the Queen had in mind.

"It is said horses are the mirror of the soul - I think that is said in your world also. We Amazons have always valued our horses. We have a word: _hippeia_. It is our mastery of horses. It has other meanings, but that is most important to us. We were great horsewomen once, when we still lived in Man's World, on the steppes of Europe, before we were decimated, and came here."

For the first time she looked up at Lois and she froze. She had never seen such a predatory look, like a lioness waiting to strike. It occurred to Lois then that this could be a more difficult interview than she'd imagined.

"You look well. I wondered if bringing the women of your world to experience our culture might be too much, but I must admit, most of you have performed better than I expected."

"Well...I'm glad we have. We're not all wimps...your Majesty."

Perhaps if she hadn't been so tired, she wouldn't have spoken so bluntly, but the Queen laughed.

"'Wimps'! What a word! My daughter has taught me much of your slang! Come, take a drink with me."

_Uh oh_, Lois thought.

"Oh, I'm fine," Lois replied feebly, but Hippolyta practically shoved the cup at her.

"It is not _yourte_. I'm surprised no one from your world has developed a taste for it! No, this is something to restore your strength. Come, drink, I promise you will like it better."

Reluctantly Lois accepted the cup Hippolyta offered. She tenatively tasted it, and to her surprise it was quite delicious. It was somewhat tangy, like an energy drink, and she thought it might be a touch alcoholic. Perfect! She drained it. Already she felt much more awake.

"What is it? This is great!"

Hippolyta smiled. "An old concoction distilled from our isle's fruits. Come, let us go riding."

Lois wondered what else might be in that drink Hippolyta had offered, since she felt really, _really_ good during the ride; she hadn't ridden a horse for years, but it all came back to her. Soon she and the Amazon Queen were riding and talking as if they were old friends who had met up to go trail riding. Lois thought this the perfect opportunity to get that interview, but somehow found that Hippolyta was asking most of the questions, and many of them were about her.

"Forgive me if I seem personal, Lois, but I understand that you prefer the companionship of women."

Lois blinked. "Ah...well, yes. I have a girlfriend, we've been together for months..."

"Yes, I've read your article. Very well-written. You would do well as a teacher of rhetoric here. So, there has never been men in your life?"

"Well...I dated men for years...of course I work with men all the time. I don't hate men like you Amazons do...ah, I'm sorry, that came out wrong..."

Hippolyta shook her head. "No need to apologize. I was just..curious. Perhaps a man has hurt you?"

Lois looked sidelong at the Queen, but she was looking ahead at the trail, her face impassive. What did she mean by that?

"No, I've never been hurt...well, I've had my heart broken once or twice, or at the time it seemed like it. I have close male friends. My best friend is a man."

Hippolyta looked at her then, and for a moment felt chilled, although she couldn't think why.

"Yes? How is that possible for a woman, and not to be intimate?"

It sounded like an accusation. Lois had to remind herself that the Amazons had a different understanding of opposite-sex relationships.

"I think it can be like that. You see, my friend, Clark, I've known him for years, but we never...were intimate. We've been through some tough times together, even in a warzone once. One time we had to spend the night together in a one-person tent, when it was 40 degrees outside! He never did anything inappropriate."

Hippolyta frowned, but Lois didn't know why. Perhaps that idea was not a welcome one here. Lois was reminded of several lesbians she knew who were adamant that 'real' lesbians ought to never have male friends, an opinion she thought was bullshit.

"What did your 'friend' think of your coming here?"

Lois shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. "Well, I don't know. We had a kind of argument several months ago, and I've haven't seen him since. He doesn't know I'm here. Actually he went off and got married. Knowing him, that was probably a bad idea."

"Oh? Why so?"

"Oh well...I don't know, really. I've never thought him as the marrying type. He's a little too quiet and secretive me for me, anyway! A little passive, too...sometimes I thought he was pining for me, but otherwise..."

Hippolyta laughed, startling Lois and even her horse. "Ah. You desire someone stronger, more assertive! You will only find that here!"

"My girlfriend would hate it if I cheated on her!" Lois said worriedly. Hippolyta shook her head.

"Of course not. Thank you for speaking with me, Lois. I hope to learn much from you."

Lois jumped. "I hope to learn alot from you too, your Majesty. If we could just sit down sometime..."

Hippolyta waved a hand of dismissal. "Yes, your interview. You should be fully rested first, yes? Come by the palace tomorrow, and we will talk some more. You will get to see much more. Let us return."

Really confused, now (and a bit dizzy) Lois wondered what that had all been about. Why was the Queen so curious about her? Perhaps she just wanted to do some digging on the woman who would be interviewing her. It didn't matter, Lois thought, as she rode after the Queen. She would get her scoop, that was all that mattered.

* * *

_The Day After That..._

Diana sat beside her mother in the dusty practice yard, watching some of the Bodyguard go through their paces. The _clack-clunk_ of their wooden practice swords echoed, and it reminded Diana of the long days she had spent within the ring also. She had had to prove herself that she was a true Amazon, and not just the Queen's odd daughter. Her memories were at once both pleasant and painful.

The morning was hot, and two of the Bodyguard stood behind their curule chairs, waving long fans under the awning that gave the Queen and her daughter shade. Diana would rather be in the yard herself working out, but for the moment Hippolyta had commanded her just to sit and watch, just as she had done in the audience chamber. Clark had gone off to fetch some lumber for a construction job in the arena.

"I am thinking of constructing a covered arena," Hippolyta was saying to her daughter.

"You mean you want Kal to build you a covered arena."

Hippolyta shrugged, smiled at her daughter. "Yes, of course! He's very talented! I am sure he will build you a fine house when you return to Man's World."

Diana looked at her mother, but couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic. She was watching the Bodyguard again, and seemed to be waiting for something.

"I don't need a 'fine house.' Wherever I live with Clark will be suitable."

"I hope you will not live in...what is that word...a _Gotham City_? It seems like a quite dangerous place."

Diana tapped her fingers on her chair. "I wouldn't mind if we do. Then we could do some good." _Unlike here._

"Man's cities are no place to bring up a child."

"The people of Man's World do it all the time," Diana sighed. "Or we might live in the country again. Or in the Arctic. Wherever. It will be fine, as long as we are together."

"Of course."

Diana looked again at her mother. "Why are we here today? Are we going to practice or watch?"

"You may do both soon. As you know, we have another contingent of visitors here. They're doing very well. I'd like to see how they fight."

Diana's mood brightened. "Good! I am glad the exchange program is going well."

"Yes," Hippolyta murmured, "Very well indeed."

Outside the arena, Lois's eyes were trying to take in every detail she could, so she could put it accurately in her article. She didn't have to pinch herself to believe this was not a dream - her Amazon minder was doing that well enough, with a wooden sword she now held out to her.

"Here," Amynta said brusquely. "Take it."

It was a good thing she'd done her workouts religiously, Diana thought. Months ago, she'd barely be able to lift the thing. Now she practiced swinging it.

"What am I going to do with this?"

Amynta's eyes narrowed, and Lois could tell she was biting back what she really wanted to tell her. Lois smiled disarmingly.

"The Queen, for some reason, wants you to see how you fight. Try not to run away like the Trembler. It is too hot to chase you all over the sand."

"I thought you Amazons were taught to be fast."

Amynta's lips tightened even more. Lois grinned.

"Okay, I won't run. Promise!"

Lois felt herself in a good mood. She would get that interview soon and then she could add this experience to boast to Tyresa, and wouldn't she be jealous! She stepped out into the arena, warming up.

At the far end, Hippolyta looked up. "Ah, here's one of them."

Diana followed her mother's eyes, and her own widened, and her mouth dropped open. She half-lifted herself up off her chair in dismay. "What..._what_ is _she_ doing here?"

"You know her?"

"That is Lois Lane! She is Clark's friend! Yes, I know her!" Diana sputtered.

"Indeed? Yes, the reporter from Man's World. You seem quite unsettled, daughter."

"She doesn't know Kal...Clark's secret!" Diana glared incredulously at her mother. "I should have known you would try something like this!"

"Like what?" Hippolyta said. "Diana, Lois is here to write some ridiculous, how you call it, 'article' on us. Why should she care if Kal is here?"

Diana leapt from her chair and clenched her fists. "Mother, are you _mad_? If she sees him here..."

General Philippus strode up to them at that moment, bowed to both of them. "My Queen, Princess," she said. "The visitor is prepared to spar with one of the Guard."

"Since you are already up, Diana, why don't you spar with Lois? It would be an honor for her, and I'm sure the two of you would like to get reacquainted."

Diana glared at her mother and Philippus; she had no doubt they had arranged this! There was an expectant murmur as the other Amazons in the yard saw her stand up.

Furious, Diana whirled about and strode away from them, into the ring. It was either do that or scream out loud.

For a moment, Lois stood nonplussed in the middle of the ring. She was still wearing the tunic and _astereia _(which she was certain was giving her a rash), and holding the wooden sword. She had no idea how this was supposed to go down; if it was anything like the movies...

From the other side of the ring, another Amazon crossed over the small wooden barrier, and Lois' eyes widened. It was Wonder Woman herself! This was too incredible! Already she was thinking of a double interview, that would sell great. But then she looked at her and thought she looked kind of irritable. She wondered why.

"Lois," Diana said mildly. "I'm surprised to see you here. I didn't know you were one of the chosen."

"I just got here," Lois replied. "This is all so incredible...! I'm speechless..."

"That makes two of us," Diana muttered.

She threw off her chiton, revealing a narrow breast band and loincloth underneath. The muscles of her arms and legs were well-defined, with the kind of tone Lois could only dream about.

"Are you going to spar with me?" Lois asked incredulously. "Hey, I'm not that good-"

One of the Bodyguard tossed Diana a wooden practice sword. "Come on, Lois, this is just a little workout," then it was her turn to smirk. "I promise, I shall go easy!"

Diana suddenly went into a low crouch, her arms out before her. "Be ready!"

Hippolyta and Philippus watched as Diana and Lois traded blows, their wooden swords clacking loudly. As Diana said, she was only going at the barest minimum she was capable off, and it was all quite routine moves she was trying on Lois. Then, Diana made a sudden thrust, which Lois parried it quickly, to the surprise of everyone watching. Small murmurs of approval were made. Diana very slowly began speeding up, and Lois matched her.

"This one is faster than I expected," Philippus remarked.

"Lois Lane may be a woman of many talents," Hippolyta agreed.

Philippus looked sidelong at her queen. "Can these…talents prove of use to us?"

"They already have."

Clark carried the huge beams of timber towards the arena, where he could hear the Amazons working out. Hippolyta had mentioned something about building some kind of half-shell there. Hippolyta and Diana were there, he knew. Well at least he would get to see Diana today, maybe she would be in a better mood now that she was outside. No doubt his offspring would appreciate the warm sun today, even if he or she was still in Diana's belly! It was certainly better than being in the sewers...

Lois felt sweat pouring down her face and body as she sparred with Diana under the hot sun. She was using everything she'd learned from her martial arts training; she was going as fast and hard as she could, and even so she knew that compared to Diana, this just barely qualified as a light morning stretch for her. But she was definitely trying to test her abilities and Lois was damned if she was going to look like a dropout.

Diana suddenly lunged forward and trapped Lois' sword arm, and spun at the waist. Lois gasped with the sudden pain as she was yanked backwards. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the Amazons look at each other, nodding. She could see that they thought the bout was over, that it hadn't taken too much of their time. Suddenly Lois was filled with an indignant fury.

_I'm not tapping out yet!_

Impulsively she pivoted, swung out wildly with her free fist. She yelped in pain as she felt it hit something very, very hard.

Just at the entraceway of the arena, Clark recognized a familiar face. He smiled and called out, "Hey, Vanessa!"

"Hi Superman!" The bubbly young grad student waved at him.

"Where should I put these beams?"

"Just right there is fine. Hey, Wonder Woman is sparring with someone inside! Another visitor from Man's World. You should go watch!"

_Sparring? In her condition? _Clark knew he shouldn't worry...but he did. Dumping the wooden timbers by the side of the stone corridor, he hurried towards the ring.

Lois pulled her fist back, tucked it under her armpit in pain as Diana released her sword arm and perhaps, actually took a full step backwards, in surprise. The entire arena had gone silent as the other Amazons, Hippolyta and Philippus included, saw it. A woman from Man's World, one of those presumably weak and submissive women, had actually struck their Princess! Right in the face.

Diana looked at Lois.

_Oh shit_, Lois thought. _It's on._

Clark entered the open space the of the practice yard; no one noticed him as all eyes focused on Diana, who was forcing her partner backwards, faster.

"That one really isn't like the Trembler," Clark heard one of the Amazons say. "I am surprised she has lasted this long."

"The Princess' pride is hurt, no doubt."

Clark wondered at what she meant by that. He looked closer at the woman who was just barely fending off Diana.

She wasn't an Amazon, Vanessa was correct in saying. In fact, that woman looked very much like…like...Lois.

No.

Oh…no.

She didn't look just like Lois.

She _was_ Lois.

_How the...WHAT the hell...? _For a moment, one of the very few in his life, his mind was completely and utterly in shock.

Diana was swinging at her harder and harder, her face set in what Clark recognized as her fighting frenzy, and Lois just barely able to block the blows, but she was desperately falling back, and if Diana pressed just a bit harder...

Instinctively, Clark rushed forward and shouted. "Diana, no!"

Stunned silence gripped the entire arena for a second time. Diana froze.

For a moment, Lois had no idea what was going on, only that Wonder Woman looked shocked. Then she heard...was that actually a man's voice? Here? But that voice sounded...

Lois whirled around at the unexpected, yet strangely familiar voice and her eyes locked solidly on Clark's stunned blue ones, and hers widened until they seemed to bug out.

"Small…Smallville?"

_Whap_!

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading! I hadn't expected this chapter to be so long, but still wanted to introduce more characters and dialogue. I swear I thought I read a comic where Lois Lane did travel to Paradise Island, but not sure what happened there, if she became an Amazon or just made an ass of herself.**

**It should be evident by now(I hope) that the Amazons (and Diana) have something big to hide but with TWO journalists (won't Lois be irked to realize she wasn't the first now!) on Themyscira that might prove a bit difficult. Like the real world, it might have been better if they had just 'fessed up from the begnning (secrets in a marriage aren't a good ingredient for a happy marriage), but of course it won't happen here either. Also Diana will have some explaining to do when Lois regains consciousness! Clark may have to go into hiding...**

** Batman-centric episode should be the next one ;) I hadn't gotten around to finishing it just yet, so started on this one. The horror part of the story should really start amping up. Batman learns more about his distant relative, and meets our second major villain, a truly scary character, but one who could help him with his 'Plan B'.**


	20. Chapter 13 - Pickman's Legacy

**Chapter 13 – Pickman's Legacy**

_One Month Later…_

_Gotham City – Wayne Manor_

Alfred Pennyworth hastened once again down the lengthy corridor to the Wayne Library; this had become a regular routine by now. He carried a large silver platter which held Master Bruce's dinner (half a roast chicken, baby red potatoes, poppyseed bun, steamed vegetables), and a carafe of coffee, since he was spending so much time in there. Likely he would only touch the coffee, and ignore the food, Alfred thought.

Lately, Master Bruce had thrown himself wholeheartedly into exploring family history - and certain other tangential matters - so much so that he had entirely neglected his social life: virtually every spare moment he was not attending Wayne Enterprises or with the Justice League, he was shut up in the library, engaged in 'research.' Alfred therefore had the rather unpleasant duty of having to make excuses to several self-proclaimed "girlfriends" who were growing impatient at Master Bruce's lack of communication, as well turning away all sorts of other individuals who wanted to talk to his employer on one pretext or another; usually journalists and those wanting charitable contributions, or employment. One young woman even had the impertinence to show up at the front door, like that odious photographer from the _Daily World_! Of course he would not trifle Master Bruce with such tedious matters. Like the _DW_ photog, she had left her calling card, although he couldn't remember taking it from her hand (he had politely but firmly shut the door in her face in the middle of her rushed sales spiel) but had found it later in his coat pocket; he thought he might as well leave it on the tray for Bruce to read – it might provide some amusement, given that there was certainly no place for a person of her questionable "skills" at Wayne Enterprises, except possibly for employee family-fun events. The card read in glossy embossed letters:

_Zatanna Zatara, Mistress of Magic!_

_The premier magician of her generation!_

_You will not believe your eyes!_

_Available for birthdays, weddings, bar/bat mitzvahs, and corporate events._

_Reasonable Rates!_

As Alfred entered the library, he saw Bruce Wayne sitting at his usual place at the desk, nearly buried by piles of books and papers, intently reading something in his hands, an electronic tablet glowing next to him. His long, nimble fingers raced across its flat surface entering in notes, his eyes never leaving the yellowed sheets he clutched in the other hand. He couldn't help but noticing that Bruce looked rather drawn and tired, and wondered how long he had gone without sleep.

"Your dinner, Master Bruce," Alfred announced, then wondered where he could possibly set the tray, since every inch of flat space was occupied by massive old tomes. The butler recognized some of them as being purchased by himself: in the past weeks Mr. Wayne had sent him on buying trips to antiquarian bookstores throughout Gotham City and beyond, so that he could personally purchase certain rare and obscure titles. During his shopping trips, Alfred had rubbed shoulders with some decidedly odd proprietors. The experience had raised certain suspicions in Alfred's mind - it had occurred to him that there was more than mere family curiosity that drove him along this path of research. Knowing his employer's innate rationality and typical disinterest in such occult topics (unless it involved fighting the criminal practitioners of such), Alfred suspected that it must have something to do with his work with his League colleagues. Still it filled him with a certain disquiet, and premonition.

As usual, Bruce barely noticed that dinner was being served. "What? Oh...thanks, Alfred. Just set it down over there."

He gestured offhandedly towards a side table, where another tray rested. Alfred's suspicions were confirmed: his employer had barely touched his earlier lunch. He set down the fresh tray, although first he had to move aside a book that Bruce had rested next to it. It was one that he recognized from one of his trips– the title read, _Cultes des Goules_.

"I do commend you on your devotion to family research, Master Bruce," Alfred frowned. "However, may I remind you that an unrefreshed mind and body may make many errors of judgement?"

"What?" Bruce looked up and blinked, puzzled, as if Alfred was speaking a foreign tongue. "Oh…yes, I'll eat something…eventually. Just pour me some coffee, please."

Alfred did so, pouring expertly from the carafe into a china cup. "Might I inquire as to your latest discoveries, Master Bruce? Perhaps I might act as a sounding board?"

"I…don't know, Alfred," Bruce finally put down the papers he held and rubbed his eyes. "I'm not quite sure what to make of it all, just yet."

"Are you still investigating a certain relative's history?"

Bruce looked sidelong at Alfred. The wily old Englishman no doubt knew what he was doing, and probably more than suspected the reasons why.

"I was just trying to find if _he_ had left any more journals. But most of what I've found consists of letters…"

"Ah, yes. In this era of email and 'texting' I'm sure it is difficult for people of a certain generation to believe that one Americans were quite proficient letter writers! It was considered the high mark of a gentleman to have excellent penmanship…"

"Yes, yes," Bruce interrupted impatiently. "What I meant to say was, it seems one thing has led to another…"

Alfred set the steaming cup of hot black coffee before his employer and folded his hands in front of him.

"Indeed. I assume, that once you learned of Mr. Carter's encounter with the mysterious females on the _Olney_, you wished to ascertain whether or not this was an accurate depiction of Miss Diana's people. If so, it would point to a distinctly disagreeable fact about them – that they are implacably, even _murderously_ hostile to any who uncover their…secrets, whatever they may be."

Bruce sat back in his chair thoughtfully, his hand to his chin. "Yes, all the evidence seems to point to that."

He had found more papers by his distant relative Randolph Carter. He was evidently just as Alfred suggested, a very prolific writer, amongst a circle of certain people. In addition there were additional scribblings - he had gone to the time and expense of tracking down Carter's old library, which was dispersed throughout New England. Like other eccentric writers, Carter had tended to jot down notes in the margins of old books. Those notes would appear to any other reader as clearly and utterly mad, but Bruce had had his own experiences in journeying into dark places, which would send most other civilians to the clinic. His own intuition was that Carter was not as insane as family history had made him out to be. If his writings were not the ramblings of a mentally disordered mind, then...the fact that Amazons had traveled to Man's World before Diana did not concern him so much as to _why_ they were there.

"So, Master Bruce, you do believe that they were Amazons?"

"These letters were addressed to his friend Etienne-Laurent de Marigny, about a year after their escape from the _Olney_. It appears that Carter deduced that's who those women were that attacked them. But he wanted to find out _why_ they were attacked."

Bruce handed the letters he'd been reading to his butler, who retrieved his reading spectacles from his vest pocket and read them aloud:

_My dear friend, Etienne,_

_As you may recall, I have been passing my time in Kingsport and other places uncovering anything I can learn about those who attacked us on the Olney. I have spoken with some of the old sailors down by the harbor (it is instructive what one may learn from such men if the proper liquid stimulant is provided to them), and they also have spoken of lost comrades at sea. Perhaps this is what gave rise to the legend of the "sirens" who lure unwary seafarers to their deaths. These Amazon women (for that is who they must certainly be, or a remnant of the Greek original tribe) must exist in some place where they cannot be easily located even by our authorities. It seems likely to me that they reside in no place in our modern world, but perhaps dwell in some location OUTSIDE of it. I am convinced that they have some means of bridging the gap, as it were, or perhaps are even aided by persons on our end. But there must be a deeper reason they voyage outside of their domain...I suspect they seek out human men in order to re-populate their unwholesome species..._

Alfred glanced at Bruce. "Extraordinary. Could it be true?"

Bruce looked grim. "I don't know. There have always been unexplainable lost ships at sea. But it would be one reason that they came after him later."

Alfred's eyes widened, and continued reading, squinting at the spider-thin calligraphy. Due to the condition of the letters, and that part of them were torn or missing altogether, he could only make out the following passages:

_...I burst out of my room through the adjoining door, and climbed up the fire escape up to the roof. I heard the curses of the pursuing Amazons behind me and I hastened to leap from the building to the next – fortunately the next structure was within my ability to reach. Only the fact that I was forewarned, the incoming fog, and the pistol in my pocket – I fired several shots into the darkness at my pursuers, which apparently struck one of their number (I discovered traces of blood on the ground in the morning) – enabled me to survive the night. However, I knew that without help – and since you had already departed for France – I could not count on surviving another such attack, and there would surely be one, for I believe these women will not stop unless they achieve their objective, which is to silence me for what I know. Therefore I decided to once again contact my old friend, Richard Upton Pickman, for help in this matter. __You may recognize the name, as he was once a quite eccentric painter and artist, who garnered a certain degree of notoriety in his day. I believe one of his paintings was recently acquired by that dissolute showman, A. Crowley. He still visits Arkham and Boston and other places in this world. He still visits places in this world, on occasion..."_

Alfred noted that Bruce had double underlined the words '_in this world_.'

_...I conversed with Pickman at length. He was happy to learn that I had survived my quest to unknown Kadath, and returned with all my faculties intact. As in the dreamlands, he was more than willing to assist me with my present difficulties. He has achieved considerably standing in his community, and assured me that if these malignant women were still in the vicinity, he would see to it that they not harm me again. However, I was surprised to learn that his people had had certain dealings with this lost tribe before. He confirmed that they regularly traveled from their world to ours, just as his people did...but whereas they mostly avoided the living, the Amazons actively sought fresh victims among ships, and that the Olney was only one of many that came under their depredations...he advised me that if they know my name, they will not cease their attacks..."_

"_Quite _extraordinary," Alfred commented. "I must say the tone and content of this letter is quite disturbing. Have you uncovered who this 'Pickman' is?"

In response, Bruce silently picked up a large coffee-table book, which Alfred saw was an exhibition catalogue from the Metropolis Museum of Modern Art, entitled "Arkham Art - A Retrospective." He opened it to a bookmarked section 'Richard Upton Pickman' and showed it to Alfred, who recoiled upon seeing the color plate with its bizarre subject matter.

"Good heavens! How absolutely dreadful!"

"According to this catalogue his paintings now sell upwards in the range of hundreds of thousands of dollars, since they are quite rare and as you can see...unusual," Bruce said. "If this is the same Richard Upton Pickman, which I think it is. As it says here in the book, he was a painter who was considered controversial, even dangerous. He wasn't popular in his time, unlike now. Tastes change," Bruce frowned. "Like Carter he also vanished; you'll see there is a question mark next to his year of death. This letter, however, dates several years after his presumed disappearance and death."

"So Carter knew he was still alive?"

"It seems so," Bruce said. "But the other things he mentions, the 'people' he is talking about...I haven't quite ascertained what he means...quite yet, although have some ideas."

Alfred thought about the books Bruce had acquired, but said nothing. Alfred continued to read through the last letter in Bruce's collection:

_...I am afraid I cannot go on always looking over my shoulder for these women, who can be quite clever at disguising themselves among the 'normal' women of our society, such as they are! Although Pickman was of great help to me, he advised that I should abandon my residence and accompany him back through the doorway to the dreamlands for good. He added that I may do more do stop these depredations upon our world from that end, than from this one. Therefore I shall do as he suggests, which seems to be for the best as I cannot afford the rent for another month, in any case. I shall be traveling to Arkham, to where Pickman used to live - I will meet with him there, and from there we will depart together. The Amazons _know of this portal as well [Alfred saw the double underlines again]_, and may try to prevent us but with luck, we will make the journey unimpeded. This is the last communique you shall receive from me. I hope we shall meet again once more in the dreamlands, and wish you the best of..._

The letter ended there since the last part was charred, clearly once burnt. He put them carefully back down on the desk.

"May I inquire how you came across these letters, Master Bruce?"

"I inquired through certain business contacts in France about the de Marigny family," Bruce replied. "The family is actually American, of Creole descent, but an elderly niece lives in Normandy, on a tiny government pension. She has very little recollection of her uncle, other than knowing he was a bit of an eccentric scholar. When he denied she inherited his belongings. She was the only relative I could trace. She was willing to lend these materials for a helpful donation. I'm sure she doesn't know anything, I don't believe she ever even read them."

"Indeed," Alfred said. "What eventually happened to this Mr. Carter?"

"This is the last letter I have been able to trace. He vanished several weeks later, disappearing from his residence in Boston, in a classic 'locked-door' case - the door was bolted from the inside. There was some speculation by the police that he threw himself into the Miskatonic River - he was virtually penniless at the time – but no body was ever found, and there were no clues, at least none that anyone was able to detect. He was the last of his side of the family, so there was no one to challenge the finding."

"Do you think he was indeed murdered? Perhaps these Amazons, if that is what they were, found their target after all?"

"No," Bruce replied after a long moment. "I don't. If they had, I think they would have left his body to be found, maybe as a warning to others. No, I think he escaped...into what he called these 'dreamlands.'"

"This 'dreamlands' - perhaps it is a code word? For some other place?"

Bruce thought for a moment. "I'm not sure...he spoke of a 'doorway' into this world, that connects worlds. Maybe like a Boom Tube, somehow."

"Surely, you do not think he could still be alive, Master Bruce?"

"He couldn't be, logically, he would have to be way over one hundred years old, but..." Bruce gestured at the stack of books about him. "There are references here in these books, Alfred, that I've cross-matched with other references in his journals and letters. If he was making all this up..." He shook his head. "I _must_ know more, before I decide what to do."

Do what? Alfred thought he knew the direction his employer's mind was taking. He cleared his throat slightly.

"Any word from the 'young couple?'" This was how Alfred had taken to addressing Superman and Wonder Woman, together.

"No. I didn't expect any. Yet I can't help but wonder if Superman knew what he was getting into, and by that I don't mean marriage and kids. I _know_ he doesn't know any more about the Amazons than I do. He couldn't have known _this_." He tapped the letters.

"He's an intelligent young man. Surely he understood what he was 'getting himself into.'"

"I...want to believe that. He's Superman. But I know he's in danger." Bruce replied shortly.

Alfred was stunned. "You do believe there is a danger, then!"

Bruce was silent.

The English butler lifted an eyebrow in disbelief. "But...not from Miss Diana?"

Another silence.

Alfred looked clearly distressed. He had only met Wonder Woman once, but even though he knew she was capable of, he thought her quite the charming young lady. "Oh, surely not-"

"I don't want to believe that, but I can't eliminate the possibility because I find it personally distasteful. It may be the danger lies elsewhere, that even she isn't aware of."

Alfred suddenly knew what his master intended. "But there doesn't seem to be a way that we could help Superman, even if that were the case," Alfred pointed out. "Unless you've learned a way to travel to Themyscira."

"Not...directly," Bruce clenched his jaw. "But according to Carter's story, the Amazons can travel from Themyscira to Man's World, and they do it regularly. Carter spoke of a 'doorway' or 'portal'...I think I can find it. I just have to find the guide."

Alfred looked alarmed; involuntarily he glanced at the old and moldy books around him.

"Master Bruce, I must strongly dissuade you from what I think you are thinking of attempting! Even if some of Mr. Carter's mad writings are indeed grounded in fact, it is too perilous to..."

"Alfred, I thought you knew me better than to keep me from doing something 'perilous. "Superman is my friend. So is Wonder Woman. If either of them is in danger, there is no obstacle that will prevent me from helping them," Bruce stood up abruptly. "I think I will have some dinner after all."

Alfred looked relieved, but then Bruce said, "Prepare a 'to-go' box, I'll be leaving in the 'wing in 10 minutes."

"Where are you going?"

"Arkham."

"But when shall you return?"

"That," Bruce said as he walked purposefully out of the library, towards the Batcave. "I don't know."

* * *

**AN: Is Bats right that Superman is in danger on Themyscira? Will he succeed in getting there? Will he find his "guide"? I'm afraid the answer may be affirmative to all three! But what kind of danger there is is yet to be revealed, and may take some unexpected turns.**

**The Lovecraft stories "Dreamquest of Unknown Kadath" and "Pickman's Model" inspired this chapter. It will give some foreshadowing of what Bruce will stumble across! New 52 Wonder Woman #7 and others illustrate what Amazons get up to with sailors! Shocking stuff to read. In the New 52 WW doesn't know anything about it until Hephaesteus tells her but I find that hard to believe IMO.**

**In the meantime how will Supes explain his presence to Lois? Or will he?**

**And what is going on with Steve Trevor?**

**Tune in next week dear readers! And please review!**


	21. Chapter 14 - Exile

**[AN: This chapter we're back on Themyscira, where Lois ponders just what she's seen, naked Diana, Lois and Clark have a married quarrel (the dang in-laws again!), and we see a bit more of Hippolyta's (devious) plans set in motion.]**

**Chapter 14 – Exile**

At the sound of a wholly unexpected male voice, Lois whirled around and was no less startled than the Amazons to see a burly bearded man bound into view at the edge of the practice ring, dressed in a Greek-style _chiton _which left most of his muscular chest bare. Now, _that_ was certainly the last sight she expected here. Wasn't this place supposed to have no men at all? So who the hell was this guy? But there was something strangely familiar about the man's features, particularly his striking blue eyes...which were staring directly at her with clear shock and…recognition. Her mouth dropped open.

"Small-Smallville?" Lois managed to stutter, a second before Wonder Woman's fist whacked into her head.

Clark rushed into the ring, ignoring the startled looks of the Amazons. Diana was standing above Lois, who lay sprawled flat on her back on the sand, out cold. She was looking down at her, trembling slightly in vexation. Clark knelt down beside his ex-_Daily_ _Planet_ colleague in concern, as Diana tossed her wooden practice sword away.

"She is fine, I didn't hit her too hard."

There was no mistake – it was definitely Lois. He would recognize her attractive yet haughty face anywhere, even dressed as an Amazon warrior. There was a knot on the side of her head already rising, but he saw there wasn't any other injury. He stood up and stared at Diana, who was scowling fiercely but at whom or what he couldn't tell.

"Why did you hit her?" Clark finally managed to gasp. It was the first thing that managed to escape his mouth.

"What else could I do?" Diana cried in exasperation. "She would have recognized you!"

"She already did!" Clark threw up his hands "It's Lois! What the hell is she doing here, anyway?"

"Ask my mother!"

"Ask me what?"

Queen Hippolyta strode up casually to them, followed closely behind by General Philippus, her hand on the hilt of her sword. The Queen only looked amused as she glanced down at the unconscious reporter.

"I see you have vanquished your opponent, Diana. She put up quite a worthy fight, for a woman from Man's World."

"Hippolyta, what is Lois doing here?" Clark strove to keep his voice level but at this point it took some doing.

The Amazon general stiffened at Clark's question. "The Queen is to be addressed as your Majesty!"

Hippolyta raised a hand, signaling for her friend to desist. "You know her, Kal-el? She is our first 'journalist' visitor. She wants to write about our Amazon people, much like young Vanessa Kapatelis, but perhaps with more hyperbole. I understand she is rather famous in your world."

"Yes! Yes I do know her! We worked together, and she knows me as Clark Kent, not as Superman!" Clark saw Philippus motion to two of the Bodyguard. Dismayed, he saw them drag Lois away by her arms over the sand as if she were a fallen gladiator. "Where are they taking her?"

"She will be taken care of in our infirmary."

"You say you know her," Philippus remarked coldly. "I see your 'concern' for her well enough...it is the concern a man shows for his concubine."

Both Diana and Clark turned on the elder Amazon. "That's uncalled for," Clark protested. "She is just my friend!"

"With a habit of getting herself into difficult situations," Diana muttered under her breath.

Philippus was evidently unimpressed; Clark saw that her hostility towards him hadn't abated even after all this time, and what he'd done. She snorted derisively.

"A 'friend?' Hah! Do not think me so naïve, boy…"

Diana glared at the older woman. "Do not call him that!"

"Princess, will you not open your eyes? You are but one of this _boy's_ many conquests…"

"I am telling you again…" Diana's voice lowered in warning.

"Stop this!" Clark snapped, then forced himself to speak to the point. "General Philippus, I am only going to say this once: Diana is my only woman. I've told you and Hippolyta this already. If you continue to suggest that I'm lying, I _might_ start getting angry!"

Philippus' hand tightened on the hilt of her sword, but the Queen interrupted.

"I'm sure General Philippus meant no disrespect," Hippolyta said reassuringly, although it was obvious that she did. "Please forgive her. I understand you are rather…upset to see your friend here."

"Hippolyta, I want to know why you brought Lois here!"

"She wanted to come here. As I've told you, Kal-el, she qualified as part of an exchange program between Man's World and Themyscira. Did she not tell you of this? Hopefully we may present a positive image of ourselves, so that our ways may be known to the women of Man's World. Only a select few are chosen to come here, those who are able to endure our lifestyle, and Lois Lane has performed admirably so far. She has only been here a week."

Hippolyta seemed unconcerned about the whole matter. Clark couldn't believe she wouldn't have known this would cause problems for him and Diana.

Clark turned to look at his wife, who only stared furiously down at the ground, unable to look at Clark. "You knew about this?"

"Of course I know of the program! I helped start it. But I do not select who goes. I had no idea Lois applied. It never occurred to me that she would!"

"Well, she did and she's here now! What are we going to do?"

"Mother," Diana said in a low voice. "Lois can't be here in the capital at the same time as Clark. She will find out he and Superman are one and the same person."

"Yes, you keep your true identity secret, I understand. Well, I am sorry this is causing trouble for you. I shall...consider what to do about it," Hippolyta looked at her daughter. "Diana, attend in the palace once you are done here. We shall discuss the matter when you are refreshed." Before Clark could protest, she turned and left the arena, Philippus bowing respectfully to her as she left.

Suddenly Clark couldn't help but wonder if Hippolyta had planned this from the beginning: his journalist's instincts warned him that her attitude and excuse seemed too pat, but he wasn't in a position to question her further. Philippus still looked as if she would like nothing better than to have an excuse to run him through with her sword.

"I must go see Lois, try to convince her she did not see you," Diana muttered, seeing there was nothing else to be done here.

Clark stared at her in disbelief. "How on earth are you going to do that?"

"I'll talk to her."

"Diana, she saw me! It's a little late for that!"

"Unless you can think of something better, that is what I must do!" Diana retorted. Clark could tell she was rattled herself. "Go and finish my mother's building, I will talk to you later."

Diana walked away towards the infirmary building, leaving him alone with General Philippus.

"You may have fooled the young Princess, but you have not fooled me," Philippus said in a low voice after Diana was out of earshot. "And I swear, by Hecate, she will see through your deception, and then justice shall be delivered."

Clark looked at her and saw only cold hatred in the old Amazon's eyes; it was similar to the look he'd seen in the eyes of certain high-ranking military officers who'd once tried to have him arrested, only even more intense. He saw that she would clearly not listen to anything he said. He turned on his heel and walked away, before he ended up saying things that would only make the situation worse.

Philippus watched Diana disappear into the infirmary building across the yard, while Clark walked alone back to where the timbers were stacked. Neither of them paid any attention to the groups of Amazons huddled together, already whispering to each other, but Philippus noticed. She turned around and saw Illythia, standing nearby; she'd watched the entire scene. They exchanged a meaningful look. So far, things were going as planned.

* * *

After what seemed a long time floating in darkness, Lois felt herself jerked back into consciousness abruptly. Something very nasty and strong-smelling was just under her nose and she tried to get away from it. She realized she was lying on something hard and wooden, not sand, and then she remembered what happened. Her head throbbed. "Oohhhh…."

She opened her eyes slowly. She realized she was indoors, on top of a wooden table, and Wonder Woman herself was dabbing her forehead with a damp cloth which smelled strongly of the strange medicine, which made her recoil.

"Lie still!" Diana ordered. "This will help reduce the swelling."

Lois groaned. Her whole body was aching and sore. "What happened?"

"I hit you when we were sparring. I'm sorry…I got carried away by the moment," Diana explained apologetically.

_What?_ She remembered something else...a man had distracted her! Lois tried to sit up, but Diana gently pushed her back down on the boards. "No, do not get up yet. Lie down. Let the medicine do its work."

"But…that man…" Lois gasped.

"What man?"

Lois stared at the Amazon, who looked blank. Was she serious? She was staring at her as if she had no idea what she was talking about.

"That man! At the edge of the arena! I saw him, he was…"

"Who?"

Diana was now looking at her with such clear puzzlement, than Lois faltered, confused. Had she really seen a man here?

"Well, I…thought I saw…it looked like Clark…"

"You thought you saw someone you know?" Diana turned to get some more cold compresses and laughed. "Hardly here!"

Lois's brows creased; this didn't sound right. "But…"

"You fought very well, Lois, but it was very hot and humid today, and I didn't mean to push as hard as I did. It must have made you dizzy," Princess Diana stood back and folded her arms, watching her.

"Well…maybe." Lois said guardedly. Her reporter's instinct told her that Diana was trying to warn her off the subject.

"You're doing very well in the program. Right now, though, you should get some rest. I'll give instructions that you will take the rest of the day off. No more training for today."

"No, I'm fine, really," Lois insisted, tried to get up. "I'd much rather talk…perhaps you and I could have a sit-down?"

An interview by Lois was the last thing Diana wanted to endure at the moment. Gently, but forcefully, she pushed her back down.

"Perhaps another time, Lois? Even Amazons know when to let themselves heal! You _really_ must rest and I need to return to the Palace," Diana said as casually as she could manage. She gestured for an attendant to come in, one of Cyanna's healer assistants. "This is Eirene, she will take care of you and help you back to the barracks."

"But-"

"We'll talk again soon," Diana assured her, forcing herself to smile. "I know how much you want to get your story!" Just like that that, Wonder Woman took off.

Lois watched Diana depart, rather hurriedly she thought, in the direction of the Palace.

"That was a brave thing you did, agreeing to spar with the Princess," Eirene said admirably, tending to the rest of Lois' bruises and scratches. "Sometimes she forgets her own strength! More than a few times she's knocked out a sparring partner..."

"Is that right..."

Lois hardly heard what Eirene said after that. She didn't for a moment believe what Diana had said. All her journalist's instincts said otherwise, and besides, Ellen Lane hadn't raised any _fools_. She knew what she had seen, and it wasn't any hallucination. A man was here on Themyscira, and that man's name was Clark Kent!

She'd recognized him right away of course, in spite of the beard. She'd seen Clark with a beard once before, when he wrote an article about his two weeks undercover as one of Metropolis' homeless. Lois couldn't imagine how Smallville could have ended up here. Did he somehow get here by accident, like Captain Trevor had? Lois recalled Clark's email to her that he was going to spend some time overseas. Had he been pursuing some kind of story, his own lead on Themyscira? It galled Lois to think he might be working on his own story on the Amazons, independently of her own. Surely, she thought, he wouldn't do something as stupid as to try to sneak onto Paradise Island, but she knew Clark to do foolhardy stunts before, and survive somehow unscathed. She wouldn't put it past him to try it. But why, though - she knew he could certainly use the money, he didn't have a job anymore - but, why would the Amazons try to conceal it from her? That's certainly what Wonder Woman was trying to do. Perhaps they were afraid to let on how actually easy it was to reach Paradise Island. If Kent, of all people, could do it, then maybe others could too. Did they know he was a journalist? If so...their secrets was something they wouldn't want publicized, especially by a man. Was he a prisoner here, then? Lois guessed that was very likely, seeing how Clark looked rather rough and unkempt. A sudden alarming thought occurred to Lois – what were they going to do to him? Surely they wouldn't kill him? If he was in danger (and she thought he probably was), Lois knew that she had would have to try to rescue his ass, somehow. It wouldn't be the first time: he was always getting into trouble, and she had had to bail him out many times before! But another, more pressing thought was on her mind as well...

Damn it, when was she going to get that interview with the Queen now?

* * *

It was late afternoon by the time Clark completed the half-shell building for the arena. Since he had other things on his mind, he made several mistakes which he had had to go back and fix. It ended up taking twice as long to complete the work. He could hear the whisperings of the Amazons too, and that didn't help his mood, which was by now rather frazzled. He just wanted to get back to the Palace as soon as he could, there were things he and Diana had to discuss; Her Royal Majesty the Queen would just have to wait.

He jumped down from the roof of the building, resisting the urge to just fly in through the windows of the Palace. Instead he hurried to the Palace on foot, ignoring the Amazons, who were still watching him, either with suspicion or amusement.

A small smile touched Illythia's lips as she watched him leave. She strode up to Vanessa, who was inspecting the building.

"So...this 'Superman' knows this human woman? What is he to her, eh?"

Vanessa looked suspiciously at Illythia. Usually the haughty blonde Amazon rarely deigned to talk to her unless it was to make some snide comment.

"Lois Lane's a famous journalist. She interviewed Superman for the _Daily Planet_ several times. That's all."

"Is she one of the women from his harem?"

Vanessa blushed. "No, of course not! He doesn't-"

"You say that with such confidence. You know this for a fact? He seemed quite upset when the Princess fought her. Perhaps he does not like to see his property damaged."

Vanessa stood up to Illythia indignantly. She had learned it was never a good idea to back down here. "You've got it all wrong! That's not how he thinks of her!"

"Oh, really?" Illythia said, raising her eyebrows. "How does he think of her? So _you_ know his mind as well?"

Illythia's implication was clear. Vanessa scowled. "No, I don't know. But I know his mind is not so low as yours! Try to raise it a little, maybe you could wipe the cobwebs off your brain with a better elevation."

Vanessa stomped off, but Illythia only crossed her arms and smiled.

Over a month here had made Clark familiar with the Palace as his old farmhouse back in Smallville. He knew the ways to enter so that he could reach Diana's rooms discreetly. No one other than the Queen was supposed to enter the upper levels. However, today he ignored them and just walked straight up, ignoring the stares of the Amazons in the corridors on Palace business.

"Diana!"

Clark entered the rooms he shared with Diana, and stopped when he saw her lying flat on her stomach on a warmed marble slab, naked, the powerful muscles of her back and legs being massaged by her Amazon attendants. He knew this was typical pampering for Amazon royalty, but it still startled him to see Diana treated like...well, like royalty. Even after a month, the Amazons jumped in shock when they saw him come in unannounced, as if he were crashing a party. He stood there in the doorway, awkwardly, but he refused to leave until he could talk to Diana alone.

Diana sat up, slowly, one of the Amazons attentively wrapping a light linen sheet around her. She didn't look happy, and Clark wondered if she had spoken to her mother already. Damn!

"You may go," she murmured to her attendants. They left silently, not daring to look directly at Clark. When they were alone, he spoke.

"How was Lois?"

"She's fine. She thinks she saw Clark Kent. I told her she hallucinated the whole thing."

Clark shut his eyes. "Oh, Diana, she's not going to believe that..."

"It's the best I could do for now," Diana insisted. "She might believe it, if she doesn't see you again, and no one says otherwise..."

"How long is she going to be here? How is she not going to see me again?"

"The visitors only stay in the vicinity of the Capital. Themyscira is a big island..." Diana said slowly. "You do not have to be in the capital...all the time."

"What? What do you mean?"

Diana took a deep breath. "You've only seen a small part of Themyscira. You ought to see the rest of it, the plains, the northern side, there's so much more..."

"Diana! I didn't come here for the grand tour of Themyscira, I came here to be with you! I thought that was the whole point of my being here, so we would be together!"

"You are with me" Diana insisted, a note of desperation coming into her voice. "You'll still be on the island..."

Clark's eyes narrowed. "Just what did Hippolyta tell you?"

"She...my mother suggested that while our visitors are here...you should leave the capital and visit the other Amazon tribe in the north of the Island, the Getai...only for awhile, so that no one sees you," Diana added quickly, seeing the look on Clark's face. "You would be staying with..."

"And you told her no, absolutely not, this is totally unacceptable, right?"

Diana didn't answer. She bit her lip and looked down at the floor.

Clark took a deep breath, attempted to talk without shouting. "I don't believe I'm hearing this! Why couldn't you tell her that this idea is idiotic? But obviously she doesn't bother to get your opinion, ever!"

"Clark, you're not in Smallville, or Metropolis!" Diana said in exasperation. "This is Themyscira! We do things a certain way here! What my mother says is law among..."

"Your mother is a tyrant and a bully," Clark said bluntly. There, he'd said it. "Just like her old fart of a general! They go perfectly together! Does she ever listen to anyone else? She certainly never listens to you!"

"My mother has kept our people safe for three thousand years!" Diana jumped up, suddenly irate at her husband. Some part of her knew this was misplaced, but she couldn't help it. The frustration, and the illness she'd felt for days, came boiling out and unfortunately Clark was in front of her. "You don't know even a quarter of what she has had to do so that we may live in peace here! Don't you judge her!"

"Why are you making this about me now?" Clark retorted. "And why are you so defensive all of a sudden? You're angry with her yourself almost all the time!

Diana took a deep breath. "I am not angry…"

"Yes you are."

"If I am angry with anyone," Diana snapped. "Then it is with you!"

Clark stared at her. "What the hell are you talking about, Diana?"

"If it hadn't been for your submission to her she couldn't do this to us!"

"If I hadn't done that, we wouldn't even be having this conversation! She would have kicked us off the Island!"

"You could have done something else!"

"I did that," Clark now heard himself yelling. "Because _you_ weren't doing squat! You let your mother walk all over you all the time, just like she's doing right now!"

"I do not! Don't you dare tell me...!"

The Amazon attendants huddled out of sight outside of Diana's chambers, shocked at what they were hearing, and yet unable to tear themselves away, lest they should miss a single word. That was how Selene found them.

"What is going on here?"

Penelope looked around, wide-eyed. "The Princess is having a fight with her man!"

"She is upset one of his women showed up among the visitors!" One of the other attendants added helpfully.

"Have you never heard couples quarreling before!" Selene barked. "Go and attend to your other duties! It is no concern of ours."

Reluctantly they departed, but they were right: Selene could hear the muffled shouting still going on. Selene made sure they were gone, before settling down at her attendant's station; she would attend to the Princess once she'd got done arguing with her man. She was used to hearing heated arguments; the Princess and her mother had always fought fiercely, with much shouting - both of them had very short tempers - but now the Princess was fighting with her husband for a change. Fights among Amazon couples were nothing unusual - in fact they were rather the norm. She and Berenike had fought fiercely plenty of times (the loom had had to be replaced at least three times, the door twice, and once the roof). But Selene wondered if Kal-el really knew how volatile Amazon women could be. She thought not.

"Fine!" Clark snatched up a blanket from their bed, the nicest one. "In order not to offend you further, _your Highness_, I will remove myself from your presence right now, then!" In the next second he was at the doorway.

"Clark, where do you think you're going?" Diana bellowed after him.

"Out!"

Clark stormed out of the room, just as a grecian vase shattered on the lintel near his head.

"Hah! You missed!" Clark shouted over his shoulder.

He headed down the marble stairways, ignoring the Themysciran imprecations Diana was still hurling after him. He headed for the stables, where he knew he could be alone, in peace. He didn't see any Amazons on his way there, which was just as well. He breathed a sigh of relief once he reached them; it was cool down in the stables, dark, and smelled like home to him, which was just what he needed, to cool down. Tossing down his blanket on a patch of clean hay, he plopped down after it, his arms folded across his broad chest. He realized he was acting childish, but what the hell, he didn't particularly care. Wasn't that in the Married Man's Handbook, that you were allowed to stomp out of the house once in awhile, when the old ball-and-chain became intolerable? Then he realized that probably everyone in the Palace had heard him and Diana arguing and that he'd given the Amazons fuel for even more scandalous gossip…well, let them gossip! He didn't care.

After a few minutes though, Clark's anger began to dissipate, and with that, remorse followed, even though he was still irritated. He realized, not with any particular relish, that he and Diana just had their first real, married fight (one which didn't involve Jimmy Olsen); it wasn't a particular milestone he was happy to achieve. He wasn't such an idealist to think that he and his wife wouldn't argue every once in awhile, but it still made him feel as if he'd failed, somehow. He never remembered his parents shouting at each other, although he knew they'd had their arguments too (not many), but they usually didn't do it around him, or throw things, for that matter. Either his dad would quietly go out to the barn or to the fields for a couple of hours, or his mom would go play bingo with her friends or chat them up over the phone. Of course, they always made up. Then again, Martha Kent wasn't an Amazon princess and Jonathan Kent wasn't an alien. He tried to think of how they would handle this, but his mind came up blank.

Sighing, he laid down on his back and stared up at the wooden roof. Diana was partly right - he had put himself in this situation by agreeing to Hippolyta's demands. So now if he refused her order, then no doubt she and the Council would take that as him breaking his word. He didn't want to do that, not after trying to earn their trust all these weeks...and maybe this was best, anyway, if Lois was here. He didn't want to think of what would happen if she caught sight of him again, or worse, bumped into him up close. Knowing her, she'd blow it up into the biggest headline she could manage. Still, the thought of being away from Diana while she was pregnant, the thought hurt him. Yet many husbands had to deal with that, especially people in the military, sailors, those on deployment, he was in their shoes, now.

Yet what bothered him most was that Diana had apparently agreed to her mother's decision without even discussing it with him. She wouldn't tolerate this for an instant if it had been Batman, or anyone else in the League making arbitrary decisions that affected them both, but with Hippolyta it was different, apparently. A chilling thought occurred to him - once the baby came, what would she decide about the baby? If it was a girl, what if Hippolyta insisted it remain on the Island? Would Diana just acquiesce? Or worse, tried to take the baby away from them? Clark didn't want to believe that would happen, but...and if it was a boy...then what would...

Clark noticed that someone had just entered the stables, and he knew it wasn't Diana. He sat up quickly, but it was only Vanessa Kapatelis, carrying some grooming brushes. She didn't see him at first, then she froze, startled.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you, Superman!"

"No, no...it's all right, and please just call me Kal."

"I just came in to take care of Grey Eyes," Vanessa nodded towards Diana's horse, in her stall contently munching its hay. Still, she didn't move.

"Go on ahead, I'm just...um, sitting here," Clark rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm just having a time-out, sort of."

Vanessa nodded; she could guess why. She didn't know if she should tell him that the latest talk of the city was how Superman's "concubine" was among the women from Man's World. Of course she knew it was only Lois Lane (she'd read her _Daily Planet_ articles, and also was a subscriber to the_ Daily World,_ her one guilty reading pleasure), but it had caused her to be bombarded with questions about their relationship, as if she was some kind of expert on the matter. It was difficult, to say the least, to explain that to the Amazons.

"Yeah, well...we all need that, don't we, once in awhile? Hey, why don't you help me with the grooming? It's very relaxing."

Clark got to his feet, nodded. Brooding all alone wasn't going to help him, and it was suddenly a relief to have a normal conversation. "Sure is."

Unfortunately Grey Eyes remembered Clark and snapped at him again, so he went to work grooming a mare in the adjacent stall, who was more receptive to his attentions.

"Vanessa," Clark asked. "How long do these visitors from Man's World stay on Themyscira?"

"I think only a month or so. I'm a bit of an exception, since I'm a visiting scholar. You're asking about...the recent ones?"

Clark nodded slowly. "I know Lois Lane is with them. I just don't want it to get out that...um, Superman was on Themyscira, or that I am in a relationship with Wonder Woman."

Vanessa nodded. "I understand. You should know, though, that what happened in the arena this morning, well, it's kind of the talk of the town, if you know what I mean."

Clark looked alarmed. "What are they saying?"

"Oh, just that one of your old flames turned up, and the Princess got super jealous, but I know that's not true! I've been trying to tell them that, but you know the Amazons by now, they think all men are dogs at heart!"

Clark shook his head in exasperation, but Vanessa added quickly, "But the Queen also announced that Ms. Lane and her group are not to be told that you're here. You're kind of a state secret now."

"You haven't seen her yourself, have you?"

"No, but I will soon. Their first week is like a boot camp-style initiation. This week is more of a tour and in-depth learning. I'll be giving them some lectures. Don't worry, I certainly won't talk about you and the Princess!"

"That's good...I guess."

Clark paused in his grooming. "Vanessa, have you ever been to the northern part of the island?"

"Yes, why?"

Clark hesitated, then said, "The Queen thinks it would be a good idea if I stayed there until Lois and her group leaves. That's why I asked. What are the Amazons like there?"

"Well..." Vanessa said slowly, surprised. "The Amazons, they're more Celtic ethnically than Greek, as some of them migrated here after Hippolyta and her original followers came (it's a long story, but I'll tell you if you want), but other than their dress, they all speak the same language, and their customs are similar. But they're not as, um, cosmopolitan as here. No big marble buildings like here. They keep to themselves, and have their own leaders, even though Hippolyta is the overall Queen. I saw them fight once, when some harpies attacked the group I was with. They're really frightening in battle!"

"Wonderful," Clark muttered.

"But if the Queen orders them to...to take you in, they'll obey her."

"Vanessa," Clark asked slowly. "You said you're studying Amazon culture...that means their families, right?"

Vanessa looked at him. "Yes?"

"They have children normally, right?"

Vanessa's expression seemed to change slightly, Clark noticed, not quite so blithe as earlier. "Yes, of course."

"Then how do they only give birth to girls? Or...do they?"

Vanessa looked at him for a long moment, before she replied.

Just outside the stables, Illythia waited. She had good hearing, had seen Vanessa walk into the stables, and heard her talking with Superman. Interesting, yes, very interesting indeed. General Philippus would want to know of this. Perhaps the Trembler might be of some use, after all.

* * *

**AN: What does Vanessa Kapatelis know and what will she tell Clark? What is Illythia up to? (btw, I borrowed her character's name from the Spartacus cable tv series, she was a wonderfully bitchy character played by Viva Bianca, which is how I imagine her here too!) How long before Lois starts snooping around? What is Philippus up to? (nothing good)! And will Batman find what he is looking for and are his fears (for Clark, and only partly, Diana) justified?**

**I have a more of a Vanessa-centric episode next chapter, where we will learn more of the (secret) history of the Amazons, which is quite bloody. Plus Trevor will feature again soon. Please read and review!**


	22. Chapter 15 - The Song of Cassilda

**Chapter 15 – The Song of Cassilda**

Selene waited patiently in the anteroom until the sounds of shouting and smashing subsided; a few minutes later, she entered the Princess's bedchamber.

The place looked like a flock of harpies had swarmed in, but she was not surprised - it was the typical wreckage one would find after the average Amazonian domestic quarrel, only a bit less, since Diana's man hadn't joined in the smashing. She saw Diana lying prone on the _kline_, her face buried in the pillows, her body quivering, just slightly. Selene shook her head – it was just like old times. This was not an unusual sight for her; occasionally she had witnessed similar scenes back in the days when Diana was younger and sternly chastised and banished to her room by her mother for one offense or another. She'd always been a willful child, easily frustrated. Selene crossed over to the _kline_ and sat down next to Diana, gently rubbing her shoulder.

"There now, little sister," she said soothingly. "Do not let your heart be troubled."

Diana turned to look at her with reddened eyes; she remembered that she would often turn to Selene or one of the other Bodyguard for comfort, since her mother was frequently away on regal business, or simply unapproachable…for the same reasons. These warrior-attendants had often acted like surrogate parents to her; she was able to confide in them in ways she couldn't to her own mother.

"How," Diana began in a tone of mixed bewilderment and fury. "_How_ could I have thought that…that pigheaded, thoughtless _man _would understand life here? He is as brainless as...as one of the centaurs of the interior!"

"But he is not a centaur, he is your husband." Selene suppressed the urge to grin.

"My _husband_! And now I am going to grow fat because of him! Ugh!" Diana buried her face into the pillows again, in the grip of a full-on mood swing. "By Hera, what was I thinking? How could I have married such a brute?"

"Perhaps, my Lady," she suggested tentatively, "you judge him too harshly."

Diana looked up again, astonished. It wasn't what she expected the battle-tempered, older Guardswoman to say. "What do you mean?"

"When you first arrived in Man's World, did you not have the same trouble adjusting? It must have been very hard for you, as a free woman in such a backwards place. But you did not come running back to us, after all, even though some of us thought you would. You endured and overcame. You were happy there, so you said."

Diana was silent for a moment, resting her chin on her arm. Memories came flooding back, some of which she wished she could change, but it made her think.

"It is the same for Kal," Diana finally said. "He is a 'stranger in a strange land.' He always has been."

Selene did not recognize the quote, but nodded nonetheless. "No doubt doubly strange for him, being an alien man. Maybe that is what gives him the strength to survive here? After all, he is only a man, he is only doing the best that he can."

"Why do you speak up for Kal?" Diana asked curiously. "I thought you, of all the Bodyguard, would resent him."

Selene hesitated a moment. "I admit that I did, when he first arrived. Since I have acted as your maidservant, Princess, I have had the opportunity to observe him closely. I see how tolerant he is, with everything, including the Queen's demands. That must be a rare trait indeed, in a man. I can't imagine it is common in Man's World."

"No, it is not, actually. You think I am being foolish, then." Diana felt abashed; in truth, that was what she was feeling just then.

"No, Princess. All couples fight, even over the smallest thing. I only confess that I am surprised that your man did not fight with you earlier!"

At that, Diana could not help but laugh a little. Selene allowed herself a rare smile, also.

"Now I have driven him away," Diana's mood turned somber, she felt her eyes watering; she felt another mood swing coming on again. How tiresome they were! "Perhaps he will leave me, this time. I would not blame him if he did."

"Hardly, Princess. I am sure he has only gone off to sulk somewhere. Do not men do this in their world?"

"Usually they go to a bar," Diana said. "But I don't think Kal will head for the nearest tavern full of drunk Amazons."

"I'm sure then he will go somewhere where he can be by himself. It would be best to let him alone. When Berenike and I would fight, that is what she would do, go to the beach and meditate until the anger passed and the urge to break things, including my head, had passed."

Diana rolled over onto her back, stared up at the ceiling in thought. Selene was right, Clark needed some time alone. Maybe she did too. When they both calmed down, they would talk. She realized it was much more difficult to be married than she thought; in Smallville it had all seemed so simple, but here things were so complicated, and now that she was expecting a child it was doubly so...or maybe she was only making it be so. Some part of her wished to be a child again herself, and not have these worries, yet it was inevitable, of course. But still...

"Thank you, Selene. You have always been a good friend."

The Guardswoman bowed her head. "I am honored to be considered so by my Princess."

Diana sighed again, knowing that Selene could never answer otherwise, she was always mindful of protocol. Thinking again of her childhood, she asked,

"Selene, will you tell me again about the time when you went to the Borderlands, with Berenike and my mother?" It had always been a favorite story of hers, when she was a little girl. It was always a little different every time in the telling.

Selene smiled gently again and nodded, knowing that it would soothe the Princess's volatile moods.

"We boarded the trireme in the morning, armed with all our weapons and gear. Queen Hippolyta had vowed to bring the Alarian King to heel…"

* * *

_Next morning...the Palace_

Diana woke early, and saw right away that Clark hadn't returned - his side of the bed hadn't been slept in. Sighing, she performed her morning ablutions, dismissing her morning attendants who came in with breakfast. She wanted to be alone this morning, to think. Instead of taking morning exercise, she merely waited, alone. She didn't have to go to the audience room today; she knew her mother and several others of the High Council were going to visit the Sybil today, for some reason or other. That would give her some time to spend with Clark alone - she guessed he would be back soon. She meditated for a short while, seated in her chair. She didn't have to wait long - after a few minutes, she heard footsteps, approaching. She composed herself, repeating the things she wanted to say in her head.

Clark finally appeared in the doorway. She saw that he was calm, but looked rather pale, as if he'd slept poorly, or not at all.

"Diana," he said quietly. "We need to talk."

She nodded, taking a deep breath; she was expecting this.

* * *

_Next morning...the Cave of the Sybil_

Hippolyta, accompanied by Eurydike and Philippus, climbed the rough trail up to the Sybil's cave, located a mile away from the Capital on a high hill overlooking the sea. The Sybil, Menalippe, lived alone there according to old tradition, so she could commune with the gods and meditate. As Oracle, it was her role to prophesy and give advice on all matters concerning the welfare of the Amazons, some of which were taken by the Queen, some not. Typically, Hippolyta consulted the Sybil twice a year during the equinoxes, or when some event of significance had occurred. Two such recent events had - Superman's arrival and Diana's pregnancy - therefore Hippolyta had decided to consult with her today, or so she said.

"Where is the Princess? Will she not join us?" Eurydike had asked when the Queen arrived at the trailhead alone.

Hippolyta shook her head. "She preferred to stay in the Palace this morning."

"Is she well? She ought to visit the Sybil at least once before the child arrives." Philippus knew that Diana rarely visited the Sybil even before she'd left for Man's World, and too the Amazon general worried that she might have picked up the impiety of those people - just one more proof of the corruption of that place!

"It is no matter. Actually, I prefer to consult Menalippe without Diana present." Hippolyta replied.

Philippus and Eurydike exchanged glances. The last time the Queen had consulted the Sybil without Diana was on the eve of her departure for Man's World. Hippolyta had never spoken of what Menalippe had revealed, but it was one of the few times she had gone against the advice of the Council and allowed Diana to leave. They wondered what the Sybil might reveal now, if anything.

The Sybil's Cave was an excavated grotto whose entranceway was lined with columns and statues of the gods, paved with enormous flat stones leading into its gloomy entrance. The humidity in the cave was high, and there was a strong smell of sulphur in the air, steam rising from cracks in the ground. Torches lit the interior, where Menalippe awaited them, sitting on a high chair carved from a single piece of polished obsidian. She looked as if she was expecting them, although they knew she could have seen them approach on the winding trail up to the cave. The Sybil was youngish-looking, with whitish-blonde hair, and a high forehead which accentuated the mad look in her eyes. She was prone to fits during the trances which accompanied her prophesizing; to the more pious of Amazons this was proof of her union with the gods, although to others (Diana included) this was really due to her regular habit of imbibing strong _yourte. _Still, she was their Oracle.

The three Amazons genuflected before her. "Sybil," Hippolyta announced formally. "I have come to inquire about Themyscira's fate...and my daughter's."

Menalippe grinned, her mouth opening into a black oval as she laughed. "Oh ho ho ho! Queen Hippolyta, have you come to consult the gods, those gods who have not spoken to us since the birth of your divine daughter? Or do you mean to consult only me? If so I can give you any answer you want to hear! Ho ho ho!"

Eurydike had little patience for Menalippe's oft-crazed ramblings. "Please, Menalippe, this is not the time for levity. We are here on serious business."

"'Serious,' you say? Well, I should say so, seeing that our dear Queen has permitted a man on our blessed isle. Surely, that indeed is serious!" Menalippe still grinned. "Are you planning to open up Themyscira to the world we abandoned? Would you like to see a McDonalds open next to the palace? Or perhaps a Starbucks in the agora?"

Philippus shook her head in puzzlement. "What is she babbling about now?" Menalippe was always talking of strange things she saw in her visions.

Menalippe heard her. "General, you of all people should know: once change is introduced, it is impossible to stop. Can you slay it with your shield and spear? I think not! Hoho!"

"I come out of genuine wish to hear the gods' counsel," Hippolyta said patiently. "I am sure you have heard of Diana's condition. I need to know-"

"What do you need to know, Hippolyta? Whether it shall be a girl? If you want that answer, I suggest you import the technology of Man's World!"

"No. I wish to know what happens...after."

The Sybil nodded solemnly, now, she was no longer smiling. "Queen Hippolyta, you know as well as I do that the gods have not spoken directly to the Amazons for many years. It may be that they are angry with us, or maybe it is for other reasons. It is not for me to say. Dare you to invoke them now?"

Hippolyta took a deep breath. "I do."

Menalippe nodded, then her eyes closed, and her head slumped forward on her chest. The Amazons waited quietly. It was deathly quiet in the cave, they could hear no sounds from outside, or even of bats. Then, the wind seemed to pick up, slowly at first, but then with more strength. The torches flickered noticeably. Menalippe stirred, the muscles of her face twitched. The Amazons collectively held their breaths. Then abruptly Menalippe looked up, her eyes were open but unfocused, as if she were blind. The expression of her face had changed, subtly, and it made her look like almost a different person, mysterious and aloof. She was the Sybil, now.

"Queen Hippolyta," Menalippe's voice was still recognizable, although deeper in pitch. "You have come to learn of Themyscira's fate? Terrible is wisdom if it brings no profit to the wise - do you still wish to hear?"_  
_

Hippolyta's voice was firm. "I do."

The Sybil was silent a moment longer, her eyelids half-shut. Hippolyta, Philippus and Eurydike watched, seeing becoming Menalippe possessed by the oracular trance. Then another gust of wind suddenly wooshed through the cave and the torches flickered more strongly than ever, startling them. Menalippe waved her arms above her head wildly, and spoke in an unrecognizable and otherwordly voice which boomed frighteningly throughout the cavern, and which seemed to come from all directions.

"The Amazons! Who are they? What has become of them? I see...only darkness. Only a word from you, Queen...and the Black Stars will rise again...whatever you say, whatever you do...there is no reward now...all the diadem means is as nothing..it is gone, fallen into an abyss of concrete and steel..." Menalippe's voice degenerated into an incomprehensible, guttural moan.

The Amazons exchanged stunned looks. They had not heard the Sybil speak like this before. Then Menalippe waved her arms again and shrieked, her eyes rolling back in her head to show the whites.

"It comes...the feaster from afar...Woe! Woe to you who wear the crown of the King! The King! The King! Aaaaiiieeeeee!"

Menalippe tumbled from the obsidian chair just as another tremendous burst of wind blew the torches out, and they were all enveloped in total darkness.

Shocked, the Amazons hastened to relight the torches, while Hippolyta rushed to Menalippe's side. She was convulsing, foam flecking her lips. She held her tightly, until the fit gradually subsided.

"Should we summon Cyanna?" Eurydike joined the Queen, holding the unconscious Oracle.

"As a precautionary measure," Hippolyta said. "But she seems to be all right. It is just another one of her fits."

"Did you understand any of what she said?" Eurydike sounded shaken.

Hippolyta shook her head, but she looked troubled. "It may be just one of her nonsense ramblings again."

Philippus approached with a lit torch, listening to the other two puzzle over the meaning of the Sybil's words. Rarely did Menalippe speak clearly, but for the Amazon general her words sent a shudder through her. Whatever she had meant, it was clearly a warning to the Amazons. Danger was approaching, and she had no doubt whence it came.

* * *

_Next morning...The Library of Themyscira_

Vanessa Kapatelis hurried up the marble steps of the Library of Themyscira, a magnificent building only second to the Palace in its size and appearance. It housed thousands of scrolls and codices within its vast marble walls. Vanessa was certain that it rivaled, if not surpassed, the Library of Congress or the British Museum. Vanessa was certain that many lost ancient works were housed in the Amazons' library, among them the complete works of Sappho, plays by Sophocles and Euripides, and scientific treatises by Archimedes and Eratosthenes.

So many of history's mysteries could be solved right here in this building, she thought as she entered the edifice. Unfortunately, for the present time, the Amazons did not seem inclined to share any of their materials with Man's World. She could not "check out" any materials - all her research had to be conducted inside. She carried paper and writing materials in her bag, to take notes.

Despite her enthusiasm, she was a bit tired, still thinking of what she told Superman the night before - they had stayed up late, talking. She had wondered if it had been the right thing to do, but she thought he needed to know the truth, or at least, as much of it as she knew herself. She knew she still had so many things to learn, much more research to conduct for her dissertation, so any spare time she had when not on duty with the Bodyguard, she had to dedicate to her studies. Just the average life of the graduate student, she supposed.

The head librarian, Lady Oinanthe, scowled at Vanessa when she spotted her. She was reluctant to have anyone, even other Amazons, rummaging through the precious scrolls in her keeping, but since the Queen had allowed it, she couldn't really do much more than scold Vanessa whenever she could.

"Back here again? The last time you left a mess! Remember to tidy up when you are done!"

_This place is always a mess! _But Vanessa only nodded, and said, "Sure thing!"

Oinanthe still scowled, but she went back to her desk. Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief. Now, she could do her research uninterrupted.

Vanessa didn't know how the Amazons managed to find anything: scrolls were stacked in piles haphazardly, poking out of shelves, stuffed in giant clay jars. You could only find materials by digging around randomly. The Amazons could definitely benefit by a modern computer index and database, or even an old-fashioned card catalogue, Vanessa thought, but she doubted that would ever happen. Lady Oinanthe was not a woman who liked change.

Luckily, Vanessa had developed her own system of finding materials. She headed into the heart of the library, down several corridors, until she had reached a little alcove surrounded by scrolls. This was her own little 'carrel' where she did her research. Today, her goal was to try to locate some materials on the migration of the Amazons to Themyscira. Her mother, Julia Kapatelis, a pioneer in her field of women's archaeology, had amassed much material on warrior women in antiquity, uncovering graves in Ukraine, Turkey, and as far west as Ireland, which contained the remains of women buried with weapons and armor as grave goods. But so far the "missing link" had eluded them, the connection between the Amazons of ancient myth and Wonder Woman's people. There were many oral traditions, and the Iron Rite (Vanessa shuddered when she thought of it - she would definitely have to land a tenure track gig at a university so she could afford the therapy to deal with that experience!) but nothing solid, as in written down. She hoped she could find a written account somewhere in the library.

Vanessa thought she must have spent half the morning going through the one of the storage rooms where miscellaneous scrolls, not considered important by the more literate Amazons, were carelessly deposited on the shelves and floor, before she found the book. It was half-hidden amongst random scrolls on gardening, and torn-up scraps of parchment.

She picked up the slim manuscript, bound like a 3rd or 4th-century codex in animal hide. It looked in very good condition, barely touched, in fact. They also existed in the library, alongside the papyrus scrolls. Vanessa had an idea of how they managed to get texts from later centuries, but didn't want to dwell on it too much. It seemed out of place, but like everything else in this library, it could have just been left here thoughtlessly. Her researcher's instinct told her to examine it more closely. As she carefully opened the codex, her eyes fell on the title page:

_"Addendum to the Secret History of Themyscira and the Tribes of The Free Women, known as the Amazons: The Legend of Cassilda and the Origin of the Founding of Carcosa."_

Curious, Vanessa set aside the other scrolls: this looked promising. She had also never heard of this legend. This could be prime material for her dissertation. She took it back to her carrel, took out her writing materials, and began to peruse the codex, taking notes as she did so. Right away, she began to notice this was material she had not encountered anywhere before. There was no author listed in the manuscript, and no dates listed anywhere, so she couldn't tell when it had been written, or by whom. The first chapter was the story of Hippolyta and her sister Antiope's encounter with Herakles and his men. She was quite familiar with this story (too familiar by now), so there was nothing unusual until the first mention of Cassilda. To her surprise, Cassilda was described as one of Hippolyta's lieutenants, but Vanessa was certain that she knew the names of all of them, either still living or memorialized in Amazonian legend; she had never heard this name before mentioned among the Queen's Companions. But what she what next was even more startling. She whipped out her writing quill and copied out the passages:

_Cassilda alone of the tribe knew of the fact of the deception by Herakles. Herakles knew he could not take Themyscira by siege, and therefore made the offer of peace in order to turn aside the Amazons' suspicions, and gain entrance into the ancient city. The olive branch, and Queen Hippolyta's attraction to the Hero, made her blind to the possibility of betrayal. But Cassilda knew otherwise. Unbeknownst to the others, she had intrigued with one of Herakles' lieutenants, a man named Aldones. He had told her, either purposely or perhaps under the influence of a god, what Herakles' true intent was._

In an annotation written on the codex parchment itself:

_(The reason for Herakles' attack on the Amazons is usually presented in traditional mythology as one of The Twelve Labors: The Acquisition of the Girdle of Hippolyta, but other sources, perhaps from peoples who were victims of the Amazons, provide another reason: that Herakles intended to stop the constant raiding of these nomads, and the threat they posed to the vulnerable new city-states such as Athens, and the laws and democracy they represented, which was considered abominations by the Amazons and the other nomadic hunter-gatherer tribes of the steppes)._

Vanessa stopped writing for a moment, puzzled. Who wrote this? This didn't sound like the thought of an Amazon scribe. She read on, fascinated, taking notes of the annotations too whenever she found them:

_Cassilda confronted the Amazon Queen with the knowledge of Herakles' plan but was rebuffed._

"_I will not listen to you, Cassilda, you who covet my throne for your own," came Hippolyta's response. "Herakles presents no threat to us."_

"_You are a fool, Hippolyta," Cassilda said in her turn. "To trust in one such as Herakles! You, Hippolyta, shall come to a fool's end, you and all your people who are blind!"_

_In haste, Cassilda fled the Amazon tribe that night, leaving her sisters to their fates, cursing them down to the thirtieth __generation as she did so, for ignoring her warnings and driving her out of the tribe for what proved to be the truth - that Herakles had indeed set forth a trap to entice the Amazons._

_Herakles sent Aldones and two of his men in pursuit of Cassilda, fearing that she either planned to bring reinforcements to forestall his attack, or would warn the Scythian tribes who were allies of the Amazons and enemies of the Greeks. In several variations of the legend, Aldones' men are named, as Thale and Uoht. The story then resumes its well-known form: Herakles launches his attack on the Amazons and overcomes them and achieves the Girdle, thereby breaking the power and unity of the Amazons, and permanently ending their threat to the civilized Greeks._

In another annotation:

_(From this point on, the legend of Cassilda diverts from the Amazons, whose survivors flee to what is also known as Themyscira, or sometimes New Themyscira, said to be beyond the ocean, and inaccessible by most methods of travel)._

Vanessa's heart leapt: here was evidence of the link between the Greek myths and the Amazons here! For that alone, this codex was priceless...but Vanessa was now immensely curious about this legend. There had to be more to the story. As carefully as she could, she turned the fragile pages, and continued to read.

_Cassilda fled for many leagues, until she encountered the first man she saw in her flight. Tradition gives his name as Haïta the Shepherd. He was unlucky to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, but perhaps the most unfortunate was Cassilda for what she did next, for __Haïta_ was a worshipper of Hastur the Unspeakable, and was in the act of sacrifice to this blasphemous god when Cassilda, either in fear or in anger, ran him through with her spear.

_"Death to you, O Man," Cassilda is traditionally held to have said at this point. "And death shall be the portion of all who cross me!"_

_Aldones (which in some sources is her lover, others a relative, or perhaps both) either alone or with his two men, at this point finally catch Cassilda, and it is then at this point...  
_

Vanessa turned the page, gasped and nearly toppled from her stool at the horrid illustration that greeted her eyes on the next page. She regained her balance, and steadied herself before she could examine the drawing; even in black-and-white inks it was awful. It was if the artist had tried to draw some vicious sea monster with tentacles, then changed his or her mind and added arachnid characteristics, before giving in and just adding whatever bad dream leftovers to the thing that was pouring out of the sky and onto two hapless human forms on the earth, recognizable as a man and a woman, like some nightmarish waterfall. What was this thing supposed to be? There were three dead figures were lying in the foreground, one with a spear sticking out of his back as he lay on a stone altar of some sort. There was no artist attribution to the illustration, just as there was no author. She had to read on to find out what happened next. She quickly turned the page, if only so not to have to look at that ugly drawing again.

_...Space and sky opened, and the god Hastur appeared, searching for his devotee, __Haïta_, and the interrupted sacrifice. Again, tradition tells us that Aldones' men, Thale and Uoht (when they are named at all) dropped dead of fright at this point, and in some variations, Aldones as well. But most reliable interpretations follow the story that in place of the sacrifice, Cassilda offered herself, urging that Aldones be taken as well, and drawn up into the wells of space from whence Hastur 'originally' came (annotation here_ - see Mystery of the Hyades). Thereafter, Cassilda was no longer present on this earth, and no more Amazons - or Greeks or Scythians - spoke of her name, only those who inquire of the fabled lost city of Carcosa, which is the esoteric part of this tale..._

Vanessa put down her writing quill; she was shaking so much she was spilling the ink. This was such a bizarre story, with implications that stunned her. It certainly didn't accord with what she had been told, or experienced in her own way (the Iron Rite came to mind again). She had never heard the name Cassilda here on the Island (was it an Amazon name at all?), and the idea that Queen Hippolyta was warned beforehand of Herakles betrayal, and ignored it, the implications were...surely this was an apocryphal tale. History was full of them, from the Greek Alexander Romance down to Elvis Lives stories...but again, here was the "missing link" that connected the Amazons to Themyscira. She had to read on.

_According to rare occult texts, Carcosa lies parallel to cities, on the Lake of Hali, illuminated by twin suns. (_The same annotation here_: See the Mystery of the Hyades)_, _and the name of the Queen of this shadow realm is give as Cassilda. Could this be the same Cassilda as the lost Amazon?_ _One final aspect of this legend contains a certain prophecy, that when a King sets foot on the new home of the Amazons, then Carcosa will emerge fully into the world and the Queen joins the King in their Rule (_additional annotation_: See the Song of Cassilda), and therefore the Amazons will no longer..._

Vanessa turned to the next page, but found that there was no more text, just some inserted pages with drawings of flowers and plants. Dismayed, she flipped all the way to the end of the codex, but that was the end of the manuscript. Hell!

She hurriedly took more notes, her head buzzing, with questions most of all. Did an Amazon write this? She didn't think so, but if not, then who did? Why would it be in the Library, and how did it get there? She knew she would have to try to find out if there were similar texts in the Library, find out some way to verify how much, if any, of this was true...

Vanessa heard footsteps approaching her carrell. She hurriedly hid the codex under a pile of scrolls, along with her notes. Somehow, she had the feeling that it would not be good to be caught with this book. In a minute, Lady Oinanthe was in the doorway, her face expressionless. Vanessa looked up with as much of a poker a face as she could manage, like she was just doing some normal reading.

"The Queen has sent word that she wants to see you immediately."

Vanessa gulped, knowing she was letting her nervousness show. "Now?"

"Now...and do not ask why, I do not know, either." Oinanthe turned on her heel and left.

Vanessa shoved her notes deep in her bag. She thought for a moment, then shoved the codex into the bottom of a clay jar and heaped a jumble of scrolls over it. Hopefully, no one would notice it until she returned..._if_ she returned. She wondered what the Queen wanted.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading! Conspiracies abound! Fans of the Yellow Mythos (and Ambrose Bierce) will recognize the names of Haita, Cassilda, Aldones, Thale, Uoht, and Carcosa. Please review! Questions, just PM me.**

**Twenty imaginary chocolate brownies if you guess correctly who write the mysterious codex.**


	23. Chapter 16 - The Pallid Mask

**Chapter 16 – The Pallid Mask**

**"**This is the thing that troubles me, for I cannot forget Carcosa where black stars hang in the heavens; where the shadows of men's thoughts lengthen in the afternoon, when the twin suns sink into the Lake of Hali; and my mind will bear forever the memory of the Pallid Mask."

- _The Repairer of Reputations,_ Robert W. Chambers.

_Pear Valley, Northern California_

Steve Trevor stuck a couple of nails in his work-apron, and proceeded to expertly hammer together the wooden T-frame that would, with some imagination, become a serviceable stage set. Around him echoed the sounds of sawing and hammering, and people shouting instructions and encouragement. It reminded him of the sounds of a busy military base, which was somehow both familiar and unsettling to him, now that he was a civilian. But he was no longer on base; this was the work of the members and volunteers of the Imperial Dynasty of America theater company, preparing for a new production. He had only been at this job for a couple of weeks, doing basic carpentry and electrical work as needed, but he discovered that he enjoyed it much more than he expected.

Of course he was no actor...although he had sometimes felt like one whenever he had testified before skeptical Congressmen. He was far from the halls of government now – these days, he was just another volunteer stagehand in small-town America. He had taken on this unfamiliar work because it was something to do in between cashing in his meager pension checks (whenever they weren't held up because of sequester). And, it was satisfying - he was doing physical work with a tangible outcome. Not many people were so fortunate. Also, because it got him out of the house, and kept Tracy off his back.

Steve and his sister weren't getting along lately. Although his original plan had been to help Trace out while she and the kids settled in their new home in the northern California countryside, he found that providing actual and practical assistance turned out to be harder than he'd expected. He'd thought he could be employed locally as a pilot, perhaps a cropduster, but the only airfield wasn't hiring, in fact hadn't hired anyone in over fifteen years. Due to the recession, no one was hiring except some of the big box stores at the outlet mall, but Steve didn't feel up to being a people greeter. Once he'd realized the folly of finding work similar to what he'd used to do, a strange sort of ennui descended upon him.

So he stayed at home and watched TV instead.

He'd already worn a noticeable dent in the sofa cushions watching the daytime shows: Rachael Ray, The View, occasionally the news programs. He'd heard the name of the Justice League mentioned once or twice - they were being rather quiet lately, he thought. After their hostage rescue, Superman and Wonder Woman apparently had gone to ground, perhaps to let the political fallout from their good-intentioned deed settle before they showed their faces again (the only people who seemed appreciative of their 'interfering' appeared to be the ex-hostages themselves and their families). Even Batman had vanished from sight, although there were rumors he'd been seen in various spots all over New England. There was a blurry photo of Green Lantern making the rounds of the gossip-monger shows - a shot of him just after getting slapped in the face by a new metahuman thought to be named Black Canary. Whatever - at least it kept him and his status as "Wonder Woman's ex" off the radars. Then, of course the usual murders and scandals to spice up the rest of the so-called 'serious' news.

Steve found that he cared very little for the news anyway, whether celebrity or otherwise, for that matter. He supposed that there were many things he no longer particularly cared about, if he'd bothered to think about it. It was so much more peaceful not to know. He hadn't checked his email for quite awhile either. He didn't want to hear from anyone from his past, and most of all he didn't want to hear from Amanda Waller.

Despite this (or because of it), Tracy had developed an intense aversion to seeing him planted on the couch day after day whenever she got home from work. She was almost always frazzled when she did; she wasn't getting on with her new coworkers (a bunch of uptight, bitchy drama-queens in Steve's opinion) and her boss was being a pain in the ass too. Steve had wanted to pay him a visit, but only Tracy's insistence that he keep out of it stopped him - she didn't want to lose her job just after relocating here. The kids were not doing well in school either; their grades had dropped noticeably. The oldest, Trent, was acting more sullen than he usually was, while Marie was becoming withdrawn. It was worrying Tracy, although Steve tried to reassure her that it was only relocation blues, and they just needed an attitude adjustment. He'd tried being the disciplinarian, but it backfired - the kids didn't know how to act around him now. Tracy was upset about that too.

"I don't want the kids seeing you like this," Tracy complained, during their last big argument two weeks ago. "Looking like some…some…"

"Looking like what, Trace?" Steve knew where this was going, and he didn't care to hear it again. "Are you going to tell me I look like some bum?"

"Steve, you need to be doing _something_," At first she had tried to talk to him "reasonably" which annoyed the hell out of him also. "I don't care what it is, it's not doing you any good to be sitting here moping and looking depressed. Didn't they tell you during your transition class that you need to be busy?"

Steve thought Tracy's aggravation was brought on more by the fact that she'd found an empty beer can in the trash, and not because he was at home all the time. He felt his blood pressure rise.

"I am not 'moping and looking depressed.' I don't know what gave you that idea, and by the way you don't have any idea what went on during 'transition' so don't you lecture me about it. Do you really want me to get a job job flipping burgers? That's all that's around here."

Tracy tried to change tack. "Steve, do you know what Trent asked me? He asked, 'Why is Uncle Steve so sad? Is he still sad that Wonder Woman dumped him?' How does a little boy know these things? You're only giving him the impression-"

"Well, you shouldn't be letting him play on the Internet." Steve almost shouted. This was one of the times he wished he had another beer, then cursed himself for thinking about it. He did not want to hear this, but Tracy could be such a bitch, sometimes.

"Steve, he didn't get it from the computer, he got it from school! Other kids, even the teachers talk!"

"Fucking idiots," Steve grumbled, just as Trent and Marie burst in through the door. They took one look at their mom and uncle, then almost as quickly went back out again, sensing a fight in-progress.

"Steve, please, not in front of the kids…"

"Trace, what the hell do – you – want – me – to – do?" Steve fixed his cold eyes on Tracy. "Go to work for A.R.G.U.S.?"

He knew she didn't like it when he got like this, but he couldn't help himself. Ever since the incident with Graves, Tracy had hated his covert ops work with a passion. Eventually she dropped her eyes.

"No, of course not. But this isn't doing you any good. Can't you..I don't know, go to a VA hospital, talk to somebody?"

The nearest VA center was a two and a half hours drive from Pear Valley. Steve had gone there, once, for a counseling appointment. As soon as he walked in the lobby, everyone turned to look at him, their conversations dropping. He could tell instantly that they were thinking: Wonder Woman's ex-boyfriend. From hero to zero. He had walked back out again without even meeting the counselor.

"I don't need to talk to anyone, I just need to be left alone."

Tracy did so at that point; she had problems of her own, and didn't need his, he knew. Next, she was going to accuse him of having PTSD. He knew he didn't. He suddenly felt an enormous surge of anger, which made him storm out of the house for a few hours. Everything was back to 'normal' once he got home, but after seeing the looks - frightened looks - on his family's faces, he knew Tracy was right - he needed to find something to do, keep him from upsetting them. He'd never learned the married servicemember's trick of keeping the mask of normality on whenever at home, away from duty. He considered going to the VA again, risk being recognized in a bad way, that was how bad it had gotten.

It was then that he'd remembered he'd promised Colonel Robardin to help out with his amateur theater company. They were based out of Pear Valley, but did plays throughout the state. He'd completely forgotten in his funk. Embarassed, he called the old soldier as soon as he could, half-expecting to be chewed out for his tardiness like any rookie. But the man had only sounded glad to hear from him.

"Sure, come on down anytime!" Robardin sounded delighted to hear from him, as if Steve was an old friend. "You're more than welcome to drop in whenever you can. Got a pen handy? Let me give you our schedule..."

One thing had followed another, and Steve agreed to take on some manual work three days a week. Tracy hadn't been so wild about the idea when Steve had told her, since it wasn't paying anything, but she seemed relieved that he was doing something finally, and off the sofa.

Colonel Robardin (although the man insisted on being casual, Steve found he couldn't think of him as anything except 'Colonel') soon took him in hand, introducing to the rest of the theater company. They were located out of a disused but attractive building in the north of the town, where many of the tourist-catering boutiques and hipster bars were. "The Imperial Dynasty of America" was printed on a large banenr in front, underneath a faded "Pear Valley Cinemas" sign. Their name, taken from the story of the mad Emperor Norton of San Francisco fame, was, as Colonel Robardin had explained when they first met, an amateur theater company composed entirely of veterans, based on the idea that drama could be therapeutic and cathartic.

"Who composed the ancient Greek dramas, who performed them?" Robardin said. "Combat veterans. They knew there was something in this art form that helped people understand their lives and the world around them. We've forgotten that, in our sad era. Steve, meet the troupe!"

There were about twenty other people Robardin introduced him too, all men (strangely, there were no female members). At first Steve felt terribly uncomfortable; most of these guys were groundpounders: many had been Army and Marine enlisted infantry, some Navy sailors scattered among them. He was the only flyboy. He worried at first if they would make some crack about his faded 'celebrityness', but none of them did. Gradually, as the days passed and he got more involved, they warmed up to him once they saw he didn't push his officer rank and former status around. There was the old inter-service rivalry, but all good-natured. Steve was immensely relieved. He began to feel at home at the theater…even more than when he was at Tracy's house, although he didn't want to admit it.

As far as he was concerned, he could do this for awhile. He would be financially okay for the time being (unless he or Tracy or the kids got sick or injured). Before Trevor moved on to the next project, he heard a noise behind him and he turned around.

Colonel Howard Robardin stood there behind him, smiling amicably. He looked like a benevolent grandpa, except for his eyes, which gave his true identity away. Steve had to fight back the ingrained impulse to jump to attention.

"How are you getting on?" Robardin asked.

"Just great," Steve was surprised at himself. "Guess I just needed to be doing something with my hands. I'm very grateful to you."

"It's we who should be grateful to you. You're doing the work of two people, you know, we're the lucky ones. Hey, some of us are going out to eat after we're done here, just that Mexican joint down the road, would you like to join us?"

He hadn't told Tracy he wouldn't be home from dinner, but somehow the idea of going home to her and the kids seemed at that moment unappealing, at the least. He agreed quickly. There was just a satisfaction in being with other people to whom he could relate better...although he he didn't like to admit that, even to himself.

"Sure, I'll finish up here."

"Glad you can make it!"

Later, Steve joined the others at the restaurant, taking up a couple of the worn naugahyde booths. It was a cozy place run by a family from Tijuana, and the food was cheap and surprisingly good. About ten of the others from the group joined them. Although he hadn't been much for socializing lately Steve just sat back and relaxed, listening to the others talk about sports and MMA. He mostly remained silent, listening to the others, making the small bottle of Cuervas he'd ordered last. Halfway through dinner, Robardin left the table to take a call, and then the conversation turned to the play they were currently working on.

"This will be tremendous," One of the actors was saying, a former combat medic named Louis. "This play hasn't been performed in decades, so I've heard."

"For good reason," the man sitting in the booth across from him said. "It's too disturbing for most of the civilians."

Steve was curious. "Disturbing how?"

The other guy, whom Steve remembered was a Marine artilleryman who'd served in the first Gulf War, gave him a cool, measured look. "I take it you've never read it?"

Steve shook his head. "No. I never even heard of it until I joined you guys."

"Most people haven't. It came out in the 1890s, in France I think. Oscar Wilde thought highly of it, said it surpassed his own _Salome _for sheer shockingness. Maybe that's why it was banned, and most of the original prints were confiscated and destroyed. It was said to have a...strange effect on people. For years, actors wouldn't even refer to it by name, they just called it 'the French play,' like Macbeth is called the 'Scottish play."

Trevor was trying to remember who Wilde was, or what was _Salome, _and why it would appeal to an arty guy. "I can't imagine anything written in the 19th century would be interesting to audiences today."

"Oh, but this isn't just any play. It is..."

Just then, Robardin came back to the table, frowning. When the boss looked upset, they noticed. "What's up?"

"Bad news. Remeber Steylette? He was supposed to play the role of the Stranger but he can't make it now. He had to check himself back into the VA hospital in San Francisco, he had another relapse."

"That's too bad, man. Thought he was gettin' better."

"He didn't have an understudy, did he?"

"No, and we begin rehearsals in a week," growled Robardin.

For awhile Robardin and the others discussed this new obstacle, while Steve ignored the buzzes on his silenced cellphone. He found that he was obliquely fascinated by their discussion, although he hardly understood half of it. They were discussing the play, but like the man said, they hardly referred to it by name, and he couldn't understand what the plot was. Something about a kingdom and its succession, the implied threat of something approaching, and terrible destruction by some unnamed, unmentionable force at the climax. It sounded as clear as mud to him. Finally, as it grew dark outside, the troupe got up to go (Robardin paid the tab). Steve put on his windbreaker, but then Robardin put his hand on his arm, as the others took their leave.

"Stay a bit, I want to talk to you."

When they were alone, Robardin looked at Steve. "Would you be interested in taking the role of the Stranger?"

The former Air Force pilot was stunned. "What? But I told you, I'm no actor!"

"It's only a few lines. He's a peripheral character in the play, but pivotal. It's going to really hurt us if we can't get anyone to play him, we'd have to cancel the whole production. Everyone else is committed to different roles. You would be perfect. You'd be doing us another big favor, son."

Steve looked uncomfortable. "I really don't..."

"If you're worried about people recognizing you, or coming just to see 'Steve Trevor' we can keep your name off the handbill. Also, the Stranger wears a mask for the entire play, no one would see your face."

Steve still looked unsure, and Robardin seemed to understand. "If you read the play, would you at least consider it?"

Steve was intrigued at that. "I might. You have a copy with you?"

Robardin reached into his jacket and handed him a slim hardcover book without a dustjacket. It looked quite old, like some old library remainder. Steve saw that there was an imprint of a golden salamander on its plain front cover.

"_The King in Yellow,_" Robardin sounded reverent, and he held the book carefully, as if it were a Medal of Honor. "This is a rare English edition. The original was in French, of course, but those copies are extremely hard to find. We only do the English version of the play, of course, no need to learn French! Still...it loses nothing in the translation. Here, take it."

Steve hesitated only a moment before taking the book, feeling as if he'd already committed to the part, and some part of him really did think this would be a good challenge. But for a moment, there, he felt like he was back at A.R.G.U.S...before the vault that was the Black Room...

"Will you read it?"

Robardin seemed to hang on his answer. Trevor nodded.

"I'll...give it a shot."

The old soldier nodded. "There are two acts, or three, depending on how you read the last part. Act One starts out fairly slow, even boring for the first reading. Just a lot of dialogue between Queen Cassilda and her court. It's Act Two where the real drama starts. The character of the Stranger - he is also called Yhtill - turns up at the end of Act One."

"Why did people find this so strange?" Trevor asked.

"Oh, there's no sex in the play, don't worry! No one's taking their clothes off!" Robardin laughed but as usual his eyes stayed frosty cold. "No violence, not like a Shakespearean drama. It just reveals all that there is about the human condition, such as it is."

"Really?" Trevor could help but sounds skeptical, and a bit amused. "Everything?"

"Everything. It is what is _between_ the lines, if you catch my meaning. For me, it changes with every reading. Every time I read it, I learn something different. And I've read it dozens, maybe hundreds of times. It has a special purpose, that book."

"To change the world?" Trevor couldn't help but smirk.

Robardin had stopped laughing, and for a moment, looked like the special ops commander he'd once been, about to give the orders which could lead men to their deaths.

"It changes the _person_. Once the person changes...the world changes. Reality changes. It will change your _reality_. But you must do it of your own will, just like when we volunteered that first day in the processing station, eh? You must want to change your life. What do you want out of life now, Steve? This play can help you to know..and have it."

For a moment, Trevor was speechless. Then Robardin smiled again, and there was no chill in his face or voice.

"But that's the purpose of all art, isn't it? Whether it is a painting or a play or a book? Well, it should change the world! For the better! Go on, read it. Let me know what you think of it. I'll see you on Friday, okay, son?"

Steve agreed, and Robardin walked across the street to his car, leaving Steve alone with the book, underneath the streetlight, enveloped in the glow of the flashing neon sign of the Mexican restaurant.

He got home nearly an hour later, stopping at the store for some gum (in case Tracy noticed he'd been drinking), and soda. He didn't have that worry tonight - the kids were already in bed, and he could hear Tracy in her room, the sound of the TV coming through the closed door. A month ago, she would have come out, worried, asking if he was all right. Now, apparently she didn't care. It was fine with him. He wanted to be alone, now that he had the book.

Steve Trevor waited until Tracy was asleep, before sitting at his desk and pulling the book where he'd concealed it in the shopping bag. The golden salamander on its cover glinted faintly in the light of the desklamp. He stared at it for a moment, thinking. For some inexplicable reason, he felt as if this was a turning point in his life just as Robardin had said, along with others – when he had enlisted in the Air Force, when he had taken off on that flight that led him to Paradise Island…his last conversation with Diana…

_I could just put this book away, unread_, Steve thought. _Return it to the Colonel, tell him, thanks but no thanks, I can't do it. Just can't get up on stage, no matter what the role. Tell him I've done enough acting in my life._

But the salamander's flat yellow eyes seemed to be looking back at him, saying, _Enough acting, then. Open the book. Read the truth of reality._

What?

Despite what the Colonel had told him, Steve couldn't imagine that there could by anything in a play over one hundred years old that could shock anybody today, certainly not when you could perform something like _The Vagina Monologues _on Broadway. Still, the old man's words hung in his brain. He was intrigued.

_What is it you want? This play will help you to know…and you shall have it._

But what did he want? To still be in the military? To get a nice, safe civilian job? What?

_Diana?_

No.

No, that couldn't be it. He told himself he'd accepted her decision, that they were never going to be 'together.' It made sense anyway, it wouldn't have worked, and he'd come to understand her reasons. But still, there was always that nagging sense in the back of his mind, the notion that things were unfinished between them, that they had never parted properly…that gnawed away at him…growing…insistent that it be resolved...

There was really no decision. He realized he had already made it, perhaps even before he was discharged. Perhaps, even before Diana had told him they would never, ever be a couple.

He closed his eyes, and opened _The King in Yellow_. He reopened his eyes, and saw the first words on the page, black ink on white paper, as clear as the day it was first printed, in 1895, by the Miskatonic University Press.

Act One.

He began to read...and read, all night.

* * *

**AN: Thanks for reading! Please review as usual! Now that Steve Trevor has read _that_ book, things will not improve for him - you've been warned! What will Steve learn from the play...and how will it affect his ideas about Diana?**

**Note: I don't know if Tracy's kids were ever named so I invented them here. No real Pear Valley in California, as far as I know, but is based on some real small towns.**

_**The King in Yellow**_** was the name of Chamber's invented play for his series of horror stories, but he never actually described what the play was about, except for a few sentences. Other writers have really worked their imaginations with it, especially James Blish's "More Light" where he actually writes the whole play in his story. So I can invent also here!**

**Next episode: Batman-centric I think, he goes investigating in Arkham, and finds out all sorts of things. Some other JL members may make a cameo. Or maybe more Clark/Diana goodness, now that they're on speaking terms again. Another confrontation with Hippolyta. Lois gets uppity with the Queen.**

**PS: Check out the recently released "Kingdom Come" Fan Film Short on YouTube! Very neat! Nice treat before MoS comes out!**


	24. Chapter 17 - Plan B

**Chapter 17 – Plan B**

_The Watchtower_

The Justice League assembled in the Watchtower's big conference room whose panoramic windows provided an incredible view of the curve of the Earth and its Sun. Only the original members were there: Flash, Cyborg, Green Lantern, even Aquaman, who lately had been spending much of his time apart from them in his undersea realm. Superman and Wonder Woman were still on leave, so no one expected them back for the Batman's summons. Other than them, all were present except, of course, for Batman, the very person who had called this "emergency meeting" in the first place.

That they were able to meet in one place at the same time was remarkable by itself, Flash thought to himself as they all waited, speculating on what was going on to bring them together now. In the past months, they had all been extremely busy, either reviewing the dossiers of new members to be admitted to the League, or taking care of 'business' in their respective regions; Aquaman was occupied with establishing his reign over Atlantis for example. In fact, Arthur looked unusually quiet and subdued, deep in thought while the others chatted. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, Flash thought, or the saying went something like that.

"What do you think this is all about?" Victor was saying. "Did any of you get any more info from Batman?" Cyborg had come back from an abortive trip home; apparently he and his dad hadn't quite succeeded in patching things up. They probably never would, Flash thought sadly.

"I don't know, but it better be important," Hal grumbled. "Does he think he's the only busy person?"

Flash shrugged. Any break from the crime lab was a relief, they'd been so backlogged lately. He didn't know what the problem was, but things seemed more crazy lately, and what was worse was that it was mostly just petty stuff, or it seemed that way to him.

"I don't think Bats would get us all up here for nothing," Barry said. "If this is an emergency-"

"This is an emergency," Batman always seemed to swoop into anyplace he entered. "I didn't call for this lightly."

"How do you do that?" Hal said when he could breathe again. "Sneak up like that? And in a space station too?"

"I picked up chatter that there was another riot in Gotham, at Arkham Asylum. We thought you'd call for backup earlier," Cyborg said. "Is that what this is about?"

"No, that's over now."

Batman explained what had happened. Apparently the Joker had somehow gotten free of his isolation cells and released the other inmates, but instead of escaping, he decided to stage what he called a "talent show" - a wonderful way to show his "gratitude to the staff for all their work." It went without saying that the asylym staff had no choice or say in the matter, and were, quite literally, a captive audience. For two hours, they suffered through the "talent" on display by the various mental patients, with the Joker, Harley Quinn, and Riddler acting as judges, _American Idol_-style, while the S.W.A.T. teams tried to figure out how to get past the Joker's barricades and booby traps he'd set up to deter any interruption in the entertainment. Several S.W.A.T. members ended up in intensive care, thanks to the Joker. It wasn't until Batman arrived on the scene that they were able to breach the defenses, rescue the staff, and restore order. Casualties, fortunately and surprisingly, were at a minimum, although no doubt a certain psychological injury was inflicted on the audience, and also on some of the unwilling inmates.

"What a nut! The Joker didn't try to escape?" Hal asked.

"That didn't seem to be the objective," Batman said. "When I found him, he was screaming 'Unmask! Unmask!' as if he were in some masquerade ball. He wouldn't say anything else, until I shut him up. The Asylum is pacified now. But that's not why I called us here."

The League members exchanged puzzled looks. Batman stood at the head of the table, rested the palms of his black-gloved hands on its glossy clear surface, looked at all of them.

"Why just us? Why aren't the new members here too?" Victor had personally worked very hard to vet all the newbies, and had hoped they would join them soon.

"I haven't met most of them yet, and I don't have the time right now to do that. I trust you all already. That's why."

"What's up?" Flash ventured.

"When Kal and Diana left last month I tried to implant a tracker in her bag, but Diana noticed it, and tossed it out."

"I heard about that," smirked Hal. "Busted!"

"Then, I mentioned something to the effect that 'Plan B' would be next. Well, that's going into effect as of now. I am going to Themyscira."

Everyone sat up at that, all staring at Batman wide-eyed. Even Arthur, who had still been brooding, looked up attentively, surprised.

"What? Why?" Came the various responses. This was certainly not what anyone had expected Batman to say.

"I am convinced Superman is in danger. I can't really explain how I know this, just call it an instinct."

"How do you know this for sure? You've gotta have some proof." Victor insisted.

"I've been doing some…research. Many days of it. I've come to learn some disturbing facts about Wonder Woman's people."

Batman explained about uncovering his distant relative Randolph Carter's journals, the man's strange life and encounter with the Amazons and his escape from them, the news reports and other materials documenting the disappearance of ships at sea, their crews – all male – vanished without a trace over a hundred year period, and then the final disappearance of Carter himself.

"That's nuts," Hal said. "Not the part about the killer Amazons, I can believe that! But all that other stuff, that Carter guy, is that for real?"

"I have no reason to believe it's not. There are certain other things I've uncovered since first coming across the journals."

"Like what?"

"The _shoggoth_. That's how I came to these journals, some of which were in my family library. I found the first reference in there, then more writings. Carter knew what it was. He described it, exactly as Kal and Diana said it was like."

"You mean that thing in Weedville, Kansas?"

"_Small_ville," Batman snapped. "Yes, the same thing. Carter saw one, too. That makes me less likely to believe that this is all just ramblings of a deranged man. I cross-checked with other books, certain other materials. He wasn't making this up."

"Damn," Victor shook his head. "But what about Wonder Woman? You don't think she has anything to do with these disappearances? They happened years ago."

"I…don't know," Batman's voice was hesitant. "I'm not sure."

"You're not sure of _what_, exactly?" Flash pressed. "You think Superman is in danger, but who from? The Amazons? Or...Wonder Woman?"

Batman was silent.

"Come on, you can't be thinking that Diana is a danger to him!"

"I don't want to believe that," Batman said grimly. "But I can't completely rule it out. She's among her own people, now. We don't know anything about them, other than Trevor's old report. It seems that Carter became something of an expert on them, and he was adamant they would kill to keep their secrets. They even came to our world to try to assassinate him, but he escaped."

Flash shook his head. "Man, I can't imagine Supes in danger form Diana!"

Hal snorted. "Hey, I can believe it!"

Victor didn't sound convinced. "Well, just because you read some crazy…stuff by a guy, even a relative, written years and years ago, you are going to just barge your way onto Themyscira now? How the heck are you going to get there, anyway?"

"I think I might have discovered a way, a way that leads to Themyscira. Not directly, but I'm willing to risk it."

They were all surprised again at this. "But why? I mean, what's the danger at the moment? Even if the Amazons - whether you want to include Diana in that gang or not - are a danger, Superman can handle himself. He's a big boy. If he doesn't show up after nine months, well, that's another thing. It's only been, what, a little over a month they've been gone. What's the hurry to bust in there? Even if these Amazons kidnapped and killed guys years ago, surely that's something Wonder Woman ought to handle first?"

Batman looked like an implacable dark statue at the head of the table. "Like I said, call it an instinct, and something else," He looked at all of them so intensely that they fell silent, uneasy. "_Something is wrong. _I'm not just talking about the sailors. It's the appearance of the _shoggoth, _when and why it appeared when it did, and ever since then! Over two riots in Arkham Asylum, with no discernible reason. No, crime hasn't gone up or down noticeably, but there's an...uneasiness on the streets, even in government, that I've detected. A.R.G.U.S. is being unusually quiet, and I don't think that's a good sign. I'm sure all of you have noticed it too. I would even venture that this - whatever it is - extends far beyond our own domains."

He looked pointedly at Hal and Arthur. Hal still looked like he wasn't buying this, but Arthur wouldn't quite meet his eyes.

Flash shifted uneasily in his big chair. "Well, I have been busy."

"Cyborg?"

Victor's lips curled. "I think maybe Dad was trying to tell me something, but I wasn't in the mood to listen. He did seem distracted, like he wasn't really listening to what I was saying, the other day. But that's not that unusual, for him." But he looked troubled, too.

"I am telling you all this, because I want you to know what I plan to do. I think I may have found a path to Themyscira, not directly, but to a similar place hidden like it, which could be easier to access. Carter called it the Borderlands."

"Maybe we could ask Colonel Trevor to help?" Flash suggested tentatively.

Batman shook his head. "No. He's a civilian, now, and I don't want him involved with us anymore. He's been through enough."

Hal sensed what was coming. "Do you want us to come with you?"

"Not...yet. Not at this point. I will go in to...to reconnoiter first. There's another thing I suspect."

"What?"

"My relative, Randolph Carter. I...think he might still be alive."

* * *

After the meeting, Batman found Arthur standing alone near the observation deck, slowly pacing the deck. The other members had agreed to serve as Batman's backup team, but Arthur had asked to stay back, out of it. Batman wanted to know why, but Arthur wouldn't say why there.

"Aquaman, you wanted to say something back there, but you didn't. What is it?"

Arthur Curry looked at him directly. "Reconsider going to Themyscira."

"Is that a warning?"

Arthur shook his head. There was no threat in his bodily movements or voice, and Batman relaxed. "No, of course not. But...call it a 'instinct' if you will. Whatever's happening on Themyscira, I think it would be best if you and the League stayed away."

"Why are you saying this? What do you know? Tell me!"

"What you said..when you said that...that something is wrong. Well, you're right. I wish you weren't. I wish I could even say why I agree with you."

"Has something happened in Atlantis?"

"No. Everything is fine. My rule is accepted. But the people are unsettled, even so."

A shadow crossed Arthur's face, and Batman felt an inexplicable chill come over him. He'd never seen Arthur this disturbed.

"Lights have been seen in the deepest parts of the ocean, in places forbidden to Atlanteans for thousands of years, even your exploration subs haven't gone that deep. Certain currents have developed unexplained anomalies, or disappeared altogether. Also, Mera hasn't been feeling well, she's been having bad dreams that she cannot remember when she wakes. She's frightened, and she's never frightened. _Never_. I have to go back to her, take care of her. Please understand."

Bruce nodded. "I do. What I don't understand is why you're asking me to back down."

"At this point, I don't know why myself. Just maybe it'll make things worse. Stir up the bottom. Also, that thing Superman and Wonder Woman found in Smallville...there are also references in the Atlantean Hall of Records," Arthur looked at Batman, a dark implication in his eyes. "You don't want to find another one. Trust me."

_There are more. _

Batman clenched his fists. "I hope I don't. But I need to help Superman. Please...Arthur. Isn't there any way you can help us? Is there a better way to Themyscira?"

Arthur looked away and shook his head. "Paradise Island may lie in the ocean, but not in our…dimension, I guess you could say. It's not like Atlantis. I can't help you. I'm sorry. Be careful. All of you. You're still my friends."

Arthur walked away, leaving Batman alone in the long, empty corridor.

* * *

**AN: Short bit with Bats and the League. I do love some Batman interference! Will he make it to Themyscira and the Borderlands. Will the League follow? What is Aquaman worried about?**

**Next up: Back to Clark/Diana marriage and baby woes...er, happiness! Hopefully soon!**

**Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	25. Chapter 18 - To The North

**Chapter 18 - To The North**

The sun shone brightly through the open-air windows of Queen Hippolyta's stateroom, where she was occupied with the day's business. Lady Cyanna and General Philippus were also present, the three of them sitting around her ornate marble desk; the topic of discussion was the training of the visitors from Man's World.

"How is their health, Cyanna?" Hippolyta inquired. "I trust they are not unduly strained by our physical regimen?"

"My assistants and I are monitoring them regularly," Cyanna replied. "They are adjusting very well, much better, I confess, than I expected. They are doing even better than the last group, even though we have intensified the training. No doubt, it is our healthy climate and natural diet that agrees with them."

The Amazon Queen nodded. "I am happy to hear it. I am informed that the food of Man's World has deteriorated shockingly. Too many fats and sugars, and other unhealthy foods, created in man's factories."

Cyanna nodded in agreement, and laughed. "However, our _yourte_ still has not found favor among any of them!"

Hippolyta smiled and turned to Philippus. "And how are they progressing in their martial training?"

"Excellently, Majesty. All of them have spent time in the arena, and they all demonstrate great skill, even though they are not equal to our warriors, of course."

"Even Miss Lane?" Hippolyta raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. I must admit I was not impressed with her at first, but she has shown the greatest improvement of them all. She has had the least prior training, but she has demonstrated a natural ability with the _xiphos_."

"Very good. Then I believe we should advance them to the next stage of the training. Also, I would like to see them taught the use of the eight-footer." Hippolyta referred to the long spear of the Amazon, consisting of a hard wood shaft topped with a two-pound, razor-sharp steel tip.

Philippus nodded and then cleared her throat slightly. "Lois has been asking when she may have an audience with you again."

"Yes...of course. I shall see her, all in due time," Hippolyta seemed noncommittal about setting down a date, and Philippus speculated that she was putting it off, for some reason of her own. Yes, Philippus thought, the Queen has her own plans for Lois Lane.

The Bodyguard Ismene then appeared in the doorway. She bowed respectfully.

"My Queen. The Princess Diana and the man Kal-el are here and await your audience."

Hippolyta saw Philippus stiffen at the mention of him, but Cyanna only shrugged. She rose from her chair, and they all followed suit.

"That will be all, my friends. Cyanna, Diana will see you afterwards for her daily examination," Hippolyta nodded towards Ismene. "Send them in."

Cyanna and Philippus bowed and departed, leaving Hippolyta alone in the room, giving her a moment to prepare herself.

Hippolyta took a deep breath. The presence of such a man in close proximity to her still filled her with misgivings, even though she had to admit that Kal-el had always behaved impeccably in her presence. Yet, the past was never truly past, for any Amazon of the first generation. Diana should have known that, having endured the Iron Rite, like all Amazons after Hippolyta's generation, but perhaps living in Man's World had irreparably altered her perceptions. Yes, it could have happened.

Hippolyta felt a strange mix of emotions: on one hand, disappointment and anger at her daughter for ignoring her Amazon heritage (marriage, of all things!), but on the other, pride, too, for her daughter clearly had not transformed into the submissive woman she'd feared would happen once Steve Trevor took her away to Man's World. Thanks to the strange yet wonderful information technology she now owned (given to her as a gift by Julia Kapatelis, Vanessa's mother) she'd learned of Diana's exploits with the Justice League, and how she was looked up to as a positive role model for girls and women, and feared by those men who hated independent, strong women. It puzzled her. For a moment, Hippolyta wondered if she could be wrong...

Hippolyta tightened her fists. No, she reminded herself. Tradition. Tradition was what bound the Amazons to their sacred island, and to each other. Break one link, and the whole edifice would collapse. That could not be allowed to happen, no matter how appealing the temptation. It had happened once before, and they were all nearly destroyed. Still, in her deepest heart, she could not condemn her daughter for what she had done with Superman. Hippolyta had experienced it herself, once daring to lay with Zeus, in order to conceive a child, but once that was done, he had gone his way and Hippolyta hers. There was no break with their tradition. So it was, and must be, for their people to survive. She must crush her doubts, and press on with her plans.

So, silently, Hippolyta waited for her daughter and her husband to appear. She composed herself, forced a pleasant expression on her face.

Diana and Kal entered soon after. They both looked rather serious and quiet, and were dressed quite presentably: Diana in a soft, wine-colored _peplos_, Kal in a clean white _chiton_, which looked to be made of the same material as Diana's dress, instead of the coarse wool he had worn previously. Perhaps she had actually sat down to weave it herself, Hippolyta would not be surprised. A crown of laurel weaves would have not looked out of place on his head. But the first thing she noticed was that they were holding hands.

Of course, she had heard that they had been arguing. That came as no surprise to Hippolyta, who knew Diana's temperament from birth. Undoubtedly, part of her inheritance from her. Privately, Hippolyta had wondered how this alien man would deal with an Amazonian temper. She had wondered how Steve Trevor would deal with it. The fact that he was not with her daughter now, suggested that he could not deal with it. Of course, she had not dared to hope that this Kal-el would be the same, and it seemed that they had patched things up, after a fashion.

"My Queen," Diana murmured as she bowed, formally. Kal-el did too, but only the perfunctory bow, Hippolyta noted. A stiff-necked man, Hippolyta thought, for all his previous show of deference. He looked as if he had just swallowed a dose of strong medicine and was trying to keep it down. They both did. She knew the reason why, of course.

"My dear moon and stars," Hippolyta stretched out her arms and Diana dutifully stepped forward embraced her mother in the Amazonian fashion, grasping elbows. "How are you feeling?"

"I am well, mother," Diana replied. "I am a little nauseous sometimes, and always hungry!"

"I was the same. The little one within you?"

Diana smiled, a little. "I feel her thriving within me."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hippolyta saw Kal shift, uneasily. Hippolyta turned her attention to him.

"And you, Kal-el? How are you faring? You have done so well here, helping out in the city."

"I am fine, thank you, your Majesty," Clark replied, his voice strictly formal.

"Oh, do not go all cold and formal, both of you! Philippus is not here, nor is she eavesdropping, I assure you! Please, have a seat. You too, Diana."

Hippolyta fetched a jug of red wine from a nearby table, noticing how reluctantly they took their seats. Ah, she could see how much effort Diana was putting into behaving herself!

"The two of you are getting on well?" Hippolyta asked as nonchalantly as she could, pouring both of them wine into two small cups.

"Yes," Diana said calmly. "We are." The tone of her voice suggested there was no doubt about it. Hippolyta choose to look pleased.

"I am glad of it. It is not on the list of 'royal duties' but often I have had to intervene personally when one or two of the Bodyguard became involved in impossible relationships. Oh, the tangled drama of it all!" She handed the wine to Diana and Kal, who looked at his as if it might contain poison. If only!

As she expected, Diana did not take another second longer in getting to the reason for her visit.

"Mother, about your decision to send Kal to the North..." Diana began hesitantly, glancing quickly at her husband.

"Yes?"

"Kal is willing to go. But he has something to say first."

Hippolyta nodded. Yes, she had expected something of the sort. She looked at Kal, who seemed quite restrained to her. He drank his wine quickly and began.

"Queen...Hippolyta...I told you when I first arrived here: I'm only here to be with Diana, not to cause any trouble for you or the Amazons. Now, I've done everything you asked me to. So...I won't refuse now. I'll go to the north, or wherever you tell me to go."

"Very good..."

"On one condition," Clark added firmly. Hippolyta's eyes flashed, and he noticed it was just like whenever he told Diana she couldn't do something, like break Hal Jordan's arm, or exercise in the nude...outdoors. No doubt she wasn't used to being given conditions, he guessed correctly. Well, that was going to change right here.

"I _will_ return when Diana is ready to give birth, whether Lois is here or not. In seven months. That's it. Then," he added firmly. "We are going back to Man's World. _Together_."

Hippolyta's face was expressionless, and Clark couldn't tell if she was displeased or not. Diana was sitting silently beside him, trying not to fidget. He gave her the faintest squeeze of her fingers, and she stilled. Finally, after what seemed like a very long silence (although it was only a second or two), she nodded.

"Well then, that's settled. Of course, those are entirely reasonable conditions. You will leave immediately, and Vanessa Kapatelis will escort you to your new home. I've already arranged a place for you to stay. It's a farm, much like your little landholding in Smallville. It should make you happy."

_Staying with Diana will make me happy_, Clark thought. He was surprised though, that Hippolyta hadn't protested.

"Where, mother?" Diana abruptly asked, her eyes narrowing.

Hippolyta finally gave a slightly smile, just a slight upturn of her lips. "I would prefer that it remain...confidential for now. It's a bit of surprise, but one I'm sure Kal will enjoy it."

Hippolyta stood up and automatically Diana did also, making Clark react instinctively (his parents always taught him to stand when a lady did too, but then they never knew any Amazon Queens). "Diana will be fine here, and you won't need to worry about Lois. She'll be kept busy! "

"Another thing," Clark added quickly. If anything happens with Diana. I also want to know, right away!"

"Of course, of course," Hippolyta said absently. "Now, if you both will excuse me, I must see to your departure." Like that, she swept out of the room, leaving Clark and Diana alone, again. They looked at each other, each thinking, _Well, that's over._

"Does she do that often?" Clark asked. "She could have the Batman thing down pat."

"All the time," Diana muttered. "Afterwards I would go to my room, or run away to the jungles. But now," she shrugged helplessly. "I am trapped here."

"So, that's that then," Clark put his cup down on the desk. "I always wanted a farm again, but I didn't want it to happen like this!"

"Look at it this way," Diana half-heartedly tried to cheer him up. "At least you won't see me get fat!"

"But I wanted to see you fat," Clark protested. "I wanted to be with you every single moment of this! We're never going to have this moment again."

"I know Clark, I know. Believe me, I would prefer to have you here beside me…but the important point is, you will be here," Diana grasped his hands tightly, and smiled, although it was forced, he could tell. "Clark, I will be all right! This is my home, no harm can come to me here."

Clark looked at her sharply, then he pushed it out of his mind. She was right, of course. Surely, nothing could happen here, but what Vanessa had told him...

"What we talked about the other night," he said, lowering his voice. "Are you sure? That's why I want to be here, when the baby is born..."

Diana suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I swear to you Clark, on my _honor_, I do not care whether this child is a girl child, or a boy. It is yours and that is _all that matters. _I didn't have any say in Amazon customs when I grew up, but I am not a child anymore. I will do what I want."

For a moment, Clark heard the old Wonder Woman in her voice, and it reassured him...for the moment.

"Diana..."

She threw his arms around him tightly, squeezing him as if she feared to let him go.

"I won't let anything happen to our baby, girl or boy, I swear it! You will see your child!"

"In seven months," Clark said firmly, in an unmistakable voice of steel. "I will come back! There won't be any power on Earth, or Themyscira, that's going to keep me away!"

"Seven months, then," Diana whispered. "Not a day longer. You will come back to me, my husband, or I shall fetch you back myself."

The two stood there together, in the empty stateroom, for a long time.

* * *

A few hours later, Clark met Vanessa, dressed in full royal livery including helmet and cloak, behind the Palace, where she was loading a two-horse-drawn cart. The rear of the cart was loaded with packages and royal dispatches; Vanessa would be making stops in Amazon villages along the way - Clark dourly realized he was just another one of the deliveries. He didn't realize he would be traveling like this, like a passenger in a stagecoach in some old Western movie. He could have made the trip (to wherever it was he was going) in a few seconds, carrying the wooden cart with him, but Hippolyta had still forbade him to fly, anywhere. This was how Amazons traveled, the old-fashioned way, by horse or foot, and he wasn't going to be any different, apparently. Still, he suspected it was also because she didn't fully trust him, even now.

"So, this how we're getting there? How…quaint."

"Yeah, like something out of the 1800s, huh? Real retro!" Vanessa said, not catching Clark's sarcasm. She was back to her usual bubbly self, after their late-night talk. "It takes some getting used to! I once proposed the idea of the bicycle, but they acted like it was some kind of demon-possessed machine of death," She shook her red curls. "Change won't happen overnight here."

"They could use some change," Clark muttered. Vanessa looked sideways at him, now hearing his tone.

"It does happen. Just...depends on the right moment, I guess. But you'll like the trip, even though it must look really boring for you! I can tell you more about the Amazon folkways," she added, knowingly. Clark nodded. He had to learn as much as he could, despite his dissatisfaction with the whole thing.

He climbed up on the seat next to her, not exactly sharing in Vanessa's enthusiasm, but he was relieved he was traveling with her, rather than with some sour Amazon guard.

"Can't you tell me where we're going?"

"I have orders not to tell you until we actually reach it, but you'll like it, trust me!" Vanessa winked at him. Clark wondered about that.

"Well, we're all set to go. Did you want to wait to say goodbye to Wonder...Princess Diana?"

Clark shook his head. They had both not wanted to have that emotional moment out in the streets. "We already said them. Let's just go."

Some of the Amazon Bodyguard gathered to watch the departure. Among them were Illythia, Selene, and Penelope, and a few other Amazons from the city. All except Selene were whispering among themselves. The usual gossipy nonsense, from what Clark could overhear, but Selene approached him, directly; surprised, they stopped talking and gaped.

Even more to their surprise (and Clark's), she stretched out her hand to him, and grasped his elbow; Clark returned the greeting, realizing what it meant: the comradely gesture of equals. He was touched.

"I will look after the Princess," Selene told him. "Of course she can look after herself, but..."

"I understand," Clark nodded in gratitude. "Thank you, Selene."

"Strength be with you, Kal-el."

"You, also, Selene!"

"You will need it with the Getai!" One of the Amazons onlookers shouted out, and the others broke up laughing. Vanessa clicked her tongue, and the horses began trotting briskly away, taking them away from the Palace. Clark watched it, looking through its stone walls, but though he tried, he could not see Diana, at all, but he did not stop trying to, until they were out of sight.

* * *

From within the Palace, high above the street below, as she had done a month earlier in a different manner, Queen Hippolyta watched the wagon carrying Vanessa and Kal-el depart, moving gradually out of sight. The Lady Eurydike approached to stand next to her, watching the scene also.

"So, you have succeeded in setting them apart. Though, do you think it will make any difference?"

"It is a beginning," Hippolyta said serenely. "Now that she is no longer under his influence, she will begin to come back to us and see reason."

"She _is_ back with us."

Hippolyta then glanced severely at her old companion. "You know what I mean, Eurydike! This..._man_, bonded together with her…you know as well as I do, that can never be! Not if she expects to be Queen here one day."

"Perhaps she doesn't want to be Queen."

"She has no choice," Hippolyta's voice was flat as she turned her attention back to the wagon, growing smaller in the distance. "She cannot spend all her life in Man's World. This is her home, and when I am gone, she will rule here. But I must make sure she is not corrupted by their ways before that can happen."

"But what corruption is there, Hippolyta? I admit I too, looked for it in Diana after her return. I see that she is the same Amazon when she left."

"Then you must be as blind as old Nya Nyanga the gatekeeper! Was she the chattel of a man? Was she pregnant? No, it was I who must have been blind, to let her depart with Trevor! Now, look what has happened!"

Eurydike heard the anger, but underlying that, the pain, in her old friend's voice. _She blames herself for this, _she thought.

"Diana made her own choices."

"So now we must make ours, so we may avert disaster."

"I thought you didn't believe in old Menalippe's prophecies..."

"Hades take the prophecy! That is not what I care about. I care about the life of my _daughter_! As long as she is with him, she will never be what she can be, what she is _meant_ to be! She is destined for greater things than as some man's wife!"

"You will only drive her away further with your plotting," Eurydike said. "It is too late for that, now. This is not wisdom."

Hippolyta stiffened. Even from a member of the High Council, this was insolence. "No, Eurydike it is not too late. Once her child is born, then Diana will see sense."

"_If_ it is a girl. And...if not? Do you think Diana would actually allow-?"

"She is my daughter. She is an Amazon," Hippolyta said flatly. "She will do her duty. We talk no more of it."

"But my Queen-"

"I said, we will talk no more of it. Dispatches are already being sent to the Getai. What's done is done."

Hippolyta turned and left the narrow window, leaving Eurydike alone, and deeply troubled. The Amazon councilwoman couldn't help but feel that the wheels of destiny were already turning, but not in the way the Queen imagined, or in ways that any of them could expect...or control.

* * *

**AN: Plot is thickening, but very, very slowly, as usual. Thank you readers, those of you who have stuck with this fic this far :) At this rate, the Justice League movie will be out before this fic ends! But many things are afoot for our couple, can they face them without each other? What did Vanessa reveal to Clark? What scheme does Hippolyta have planned? I know many readers dislike her already, but be prepared for exponential dislike!**

**As always please read and review!**

**Hope you all are as eager to see Man of Steel as I am! Hopefully Ch. 19 will be out before then or right after, either the chapter where Clark reaches his destination (what could it be? Another character introduction) or Batman-centric again.**


	26. Chapter 19 - Road to Nowhere

**Chapter 19 – Road to Nowhere**

_We're on a ride to nowhere_

_Come on inside_

_Takin' that ride to nowhere_

_We'll take that ride_

_Maybe you wonder where you are_

_I don't care_

_Here is where time is on our side_

_Take you there, take you there_

_There's a city in my mind_

_Come along and take that ride_

_And it's all right, baby it's all right_

_And it's very far away_

_But it's growing day by day_

_And it's all right, baby it's all right_

_Would you like to come along?_

_And you could help me sing this song_

_And it's all right, baby it's all right_

_They can tell you what to do_

_But they'll make a fool of you_

_And it's all right, baby it's all right_

_We're on a road to nowhere_

"Road to Nowhere" Talking Heads

_Outside of Gotham City_

"Coms check: are you hearing me clearly, now, Batman?"

"Roger Cyborg, I read you loud and clear."

Batman's gloved hands hovering over the controls of the Batwing. The sleek black craft was flying in stealth mode, moving nearly noiselessly through the night sky. The interior of the craft was pitch dark, only the light of the control panel illuminating the small cockpit. "Is there any air traffic in my vicinity?"

"Negative," Cyborg replied. Due to his highly advanced cybernetic implants, he was able to access the navigational mainframes of every air traffic command in the world. "You've got a clear path to…wherever it is that you're going?"

"Arkham."

"But I thought you said the riot was over…?"

"Not Arkham Asylum. Arkham, Massachusetts."

Cyborg tapped into his own internal database and pinpointed the location of Arkham. He was puzzled by what he read. Arkham was a small college town, north of Boston.

"Where in Arkham are you going? You're not going to drop down right in the town square?"

"Of course not. I'm headed for the outskirts."

Up in the Watchtower, Flash and Cyborg exchanged curious glances. At best Batman was maddeningly vague about his plans.

Flash spoke into the comlink. "What are you going to do there? I know you said you didn't want backup, but..."

"I'll be fine," Batman answered shortly. "It may not lead to anything, it's just a hunch, but I want you to keep monitoring my movements from the Watchtower."

"His 'hunches' usually turn out to be the start of something bad about to happen," Flash mumbled to himself. More loudly, he said, "What do you think you're going to find?"

Batman explained. "In his journals, Randolph Carter seemed to suggest that there was a passageway from Arkham leading into the Borderlands, located in a series of underground caves. If there is one, then this would be the only possible location for it. It would have to be away from anywhere developed."

Cyborg pulled up another set of topographical 3D maps in the control center. They flashed up in the air in front of him and Flash.

"Batman, I'm looking at latest USGS maps of the northern region of New England. I don't see any cave formations."

"I'm going by Carter's directions."

Batman had shared his distant relative's journals with the other League members, or at least the relevant parts. Flash thought the guy was nutty as a fruitcake; he could hardly believe any of it, but apparently the Bats was convinced.

"Are you sure? We could be out there to you really fast, I could help you scout out-"

"No. Like I said, it might not be anything. Stay on the Watchtower, just keep an eye open for unusual events."

"What does he mean by 'unusual'?" Cyborg wondered to himself.

Standing next to his friend, Flash crossed his arms. "Anything bad!"

The flight from Gotham City to Arkham didn't take long. Batman scanned the valley below him for a suitable landing spot, and managed to detect one about a mile from the potential site he wanted to investigate, a forested area. The Batwing landed in a clearing barely large enough to accommodate the stealth aircraft. Although there was a nearly full moon, it blended in effortlessly, and anyone coming upon it would perhaps only mistake it for a large rock until they were only a few inches away from it.

Batman leapt down from the cockpit, the infrared optics in his cowl enabling him to see excellently in the dark. He paused only to look around at his surroundings. There were no people around, and unlikely to be; the populated areas of Arkham were clustered around its old university, Miskatonic. There were a few, scattered farms nearby, but mostly on the southern side of the town – he was off to the northwest. Without hesitation, he plunged into the darkness of the forest, aware that his colleagues in the Watchtower could track him easily on the ground.

"We have you on the ground now, heading due north-northwest. We'll keep following you." Cyborg's voice suggested that they would do this whether Batman preferred to work alone or not.

Bruce smiled grimly to himself, although no one could see him. "Roger that. Batman out."

Actually, he preferred to do his exploring alone, but since this mission was directly related to the Justice League – his plan to follow Superman and Wonder Woman to Themyscira – it involved the rest of the team too, which made it rather different than if he was just on Gotham crime-fighting business. This involved much more than just taking down some gangster. He had explained his reasons, and the rest of the team - minus Aquaman - had agreed to the idea, even if they were puzzled by much of how Batman had come across his suspicions.

Utilizing his prodigious memory, Bruce reviewed Carter's writings as he made his way through the thick brush, using a laser-powered cutter embedded in his wrist to clear a path. There was no trail here, and no litter, not even so much as a discarded water bottle or food wrapper, suggesting that it had been many years since anyone had ventured into this wilderness. Even local wildlife appeared to have deserted this place, judging from the quiet. It seemed as desolate as a desert, in spite of the proliferance of greenery.

"Enjoying the stroll?" A new voice piped in over his comlink, momentarily making Batman pause in surprise. It was Hal Jordan.

"This is wack," Green Lantern remarked. "I read those journals too. He said he dreamed the whole thing, didn't he? I'm all for going to Themyscira, but there's gotta be a better way there. The only thing you're going to find in the woods is bearshit! Or else you'll scare the hell out of some teenagers making out."

"Lantern, get off the line!" Batman hissed.

Faints sounds of an argument over the comlink. Bruce gritted his teeth.

"All right, all right," Hal said again. "But if you do run into any trouble, I'll be down there in a heartbeat."

Silence, again. Then Cyborg came back online. "Sorry 'bout that."

"I'll be heading in this direction for at least half a mile. Maybe it's a good idea if you maintain radio silence."

For the next hour Batman was spared his colleagues' chit-chat as he made his way through the forest. Utilizing his photographic memory, he recalled Carter's writings.

_On the outskirts of Arkham, _he'd written, _One may come across a series of caves, concealed in the woods which once was part of the lands of the Miskaton Indians. A cleft in the valley floor was their ancient burying grounds, which were clustered with small caves which they shunned in daylight and eve. Those of the waking world may access the Borderlands through one such descent, where seventy steps are carved out of the limestone, leading to a cavern..._

Years ago, Bruce had become something of an expert outdoorsman and mountaineer, when he'd traveled to the Himalayas seeking training in exotic martial arts and mental stamina. As he traveled over the land, he instinctively could sense the slight geographic changes, that he was descending slightly into a depression in the land. As he stood on the lip of a dip in the ground, he raised his gloved hand and used a small scanner to survey the ground.

"Batman, there are several rock caves directly ahead of you, just as you said," Cyborg sounded impressed.

"I'm going in the deepest one."

"Be careful."

Cautiously, Bruce approached the mouth of the first cave. It was not a large opening, but big enough so he could enter without problem. He looked around carefully. Still, no sign of any human visitation. This place looked just as wild as it may have been in Indian times. He wondered vaguely why it hadn't been listed as a protected Native American site, but then again there were no Misktons today. He entered the darkened cave, his night-vision turned on the maximum to ensure he would not stumble or fall in the absolutely blackness of the cave. He was able to go about twenty yards inside before he saw the ground gradually start to descend.

"Still reading me?"

"Of course." The Watchtower's technology was the most advanced in the world.

Bruce had, of course, suitable rappelling gear with him in his belt, and he was able to descend into the darkness of the caves. Although he wasn't an expert caver, he was skilled enough to descend without trouble. The descent was surprisingly easy, and although he was a big man, he had little difficulty passing through the spaces, which except for a few twists and turns he'd had to squeeze through, continued steadily downwards into the darkness. One hundred, two hundred, three hundred feet...

Far above him, in orbit aboard the Watchtower, Flash and Cyborg carefully watched the 3-D projections which were beamed from the receivers implanted in Batman's cowl up to the computer mainframe of the space station. Green Lantern had gone to the galley to make himself a sandwich.

"I feel like I'm in a horror movie," muttered Flash uncomfortably. Victor turned and looked at the red-garbed speedster in surprise.

"What? Why?"

"Well, didn't you ever see _The Descent_?"

"C'mon, man, nothing's going to happen. He's less than a hundred miles from Boston Common, of all places."

"But what if he's right? How are we going to track him all the way to Paradise Island? Will the comms work?"

"This is just a recon mission. If they work, or not, well, we'll find out. Besides," Cyborg waved his metal fist at the screen. "There's nothing there but bats, so he's fine!"

"Wait."

Batman's voice came in clear through the speakers. Both of immediately returned their attention to the screen. "What's up?"

Far below the Watchtower, Bruce peered closely at the rock at his feet, then he bent down, carefully feeling the hard surface.

"The rock here…it's been formed, into steps. Someone has been here before."

Cyborg and Flash exchanged glances.

"Maybe spelunkers?" Victor suggested. "Someone...recent?"

"I don't think it was made by weekend hobbyists, somehow."

Batman stood up, carefully descended further down; now,he saw they were definitely stairs. Stairs, carved out of the greyish-white limestone rock of the cave. By somebody.

_Seventy steps leading to a cavern..._

"This was mentioned in Carter's journals, the steps in the cave! A stairway leading down!" Despite himself, Bruce couldn't help but feel immensely excited. Part of him always believed that if he'd lived in earlier times, he would have been an explorer, charting new territory in the blank part of the map of the world. "This has to be it!"

Cyborg and Victor however, didn't quite share in the enthusiasm.

"Well...what do you think you're going to find at the end of the stairs?"

Batman replied resolutely. "I'm going to find out."

He descended the rest of the way, deliberately forcing himself to remain calm and methodical, counting the steps as he went down, down. Finally, he reached the end, and the change in air pressure and its smell was very noticeable, but he had no trouble breathing. Yes, seventy steps, or almost. He'd not checked exactly where they'd begun, when he'd begun his descent into the unnamed cave. The ground seemed flat and stable, and he was relieved to find he was able to stand to his full height. Using the sensors also in his cowl, he knew, or rather sensed, that he'd entered a large cavern. The cave ceiling was high, he saw the shapes of cone-shaped stalactites above him, and rocks of all sizes scattered throughout the space. He also saw movement - bats, lots of them. He smiled, then thought about the very likely possibility of getting showered with bat guano. It had happened before, in the Batcave!

"I've reached the end of the stairway. I'm in a cavern, indeterminate size. I'm going to continue to explore."

Then, something else in the air – Bruce raised his head, opened his nostrils slightly. He'd recognized the small of bat guano, and ammonia, from their waste. But there was another scent his nostrils picked up, something that he'd also smelled before…all too frequently, in back alleys and in boarded-up houses and in morgues…the smell of decomposition.

Dead bodies. Corpses. That _other_, familiar smell. It was here, just a trace.

"Batman?"

"I'm here," Bruce replied, very quietly. "Keep comm silence, just for a sec."

Batman paused a moment, thinking hard. He considered whether this place could be, or was, used by the Mob or some other gang to dispose of their competitors, but he discarded that theory - this was too far out of the way for them. Could it be the remains of some unlucky caver? He had to find out before he tested any other theory.

Slowly, he pressed forward into the cavern. He used his gear to determine the depth of the cave here, but his readings were indeterminate. Still, he pressed forward, half-expecting to see the remains of spelunking gear: a headlamp, harnesses, knee pads, first aid kit. But, there was still no evidence any human had passed this way.

No _humans_...

"Batman," Cyborg's voice was muted, low. "I'm getting indistinct readings ahead of you. What do you see down there? I can't see how big this is, from where I am..."

Cyborg and Flash watched helplessly as the signal was beginning to deteriorate the further Batman descended. Victor tried to increase power to the signal, but even though it should have been able to penetrate the surface, it wasn't doing what it was supposed to.

"What's wrong with it?" Flash demanded.

"Hell if I know," Victor growled. "Batman, can you read me?"

Batman barely heard Victor's hail. He was thinking again to Carter's journals, his mind focused now on one particular passage related to the mention of the cave-system and the steps leading to a yawning black cavern and what lay beyond.

_An acquaintance of mine in Boston, a painter of strange, surrealist pictures, Richard Upton Pickman by name, had actually made friends with with denizens of the abyss beneath the ground, and learned their repulsive-sounding speech. He had come to spend less and less time in his studio, which was, conveniently, located near a graveyard. He has vanished at last. Undoubtedly he has gone 'native' so to speak..._

"Batman!"

"Yes, I hear you," Bruce replied irritably.

"I really think you should come back. We can't get a solid reading on you. There's some interference we can't account for. There shouldn't be anything in that geology to block our signal strength, but something's making it very weak."

"It's probably the same thing that hides Themyscira from the rest of the world," Batman replied, as if it were obvious. "As long as you can still hear me, I'm pressing on."

Flash shook his head.

Batman walked further into the cavern, this time, now, all his senses, finely tuned from years of combat and training, were on high alert. The charnel smell was growing stronger with each step, and the air was getting somehow thicker with it. It was unpleasant, but not unbreathable. Then, his foot crunched on something. He bent down, looked at what he'd stepped on.

A thighbone. A human one.

Bruce carefully picked it up and examined it. He was also well-trained in the forensic sciences. This thighbone was old, whoever it had belonged to had died years ago, but how had it ended up here? Then...he noticed the markings on it, the way it was broken off at one end, the marrow emptied. He'd worked several cases where he'd seen this before. When victims had been eaten. Someone...something had been snacking on this.

"Batman?" Victor's voice sounded muffled, distant.

A noise. High-pitched, distant. Not like a bat's noise, but to the uneducated layperson, potentially mistakable for one. Bruce froze, his heart pounding. As he crouched low to the ground, he then saw, _really_ saw, the ground stretching ahead of him. He'd thought it was a bed of rock, solid limestone. But he was mistaken. The thighbone he'd picked up was only one of many, scattered willy-nilly about the ground. Thighbones, rib-bones, pelvises, vertebrae, and skulls, littering the floor of the cavern everywhere.

This places _was_ a graveyard.

Bruce was sure if he'd examined all the thousands of bones he now saw, they would reveal the same marks.

Now, a new sound, a cross between a high-pitched meep and a glibber. Distant, like the other sound...but closer than it. Then again, distinctly closer.

Bruce slowly rose from his crouching position, in a self-defensive posture, his fists clenched. He strained to see with his optics, but there was no movement he could see, anywhere. Then his mind recalled the book he'd been studying in his library, the Metropolis MOMA Arkham Art Retrospective catalogue, and its entry on Richard Upton Pickman. There was only one color plate of his art in the book - it was entitled "Ghoul Feeding."

_Pickman came to repel me more and more every time I saw him. I grew convinced that his features and expressions were changing, slowly developing. He talks almost always now about diet, and evolution. Now that he has disappeared, one can only come to the inevitable conclusion..._

In the impenetrable, soundless dark, Bruce gingerly called out.

"_Pickman?"_

"Batman, what's happening down there...?"

That glibbering noise, like someone trying to make words through a mouthful of jello, coming now, from behind him.

Batman whirled around, his cape swirling about him. The bats in the cave's ceiling flew off with a thunderous flapping of their tenebrous wings. But underneath the sound of their familiar flutter, came that odd glibbering noise again, this time louder, and from seemingly all directions. He snatched a concussion grenade from his belt, but out of the corner of his eye saw something dark and fast, racing through the carpet of bones directly at him. He spun, flinging a batarang, before something collided hard with him, knocking him sideways and senseless, and he felt himself falling...falling...

"Batman, Batman can you hear me?"

Frantically Cyborg struggled to channel more power to the weakening signal, Flash hovering close by, horrified. The 3-D scans flickered, and disappeared. For just a moment, Flash thought he caught a glimpse of something huge, and dark, with glowing lambent eyes, and he recoiled, but then it was gone.

"Batman? Batman!"

He'd lost all contact. Batman's signal had completely disappeared from the screens. Victor's metal fist pounded the console in futility.

At that moment, Green Lantern walked into the control room, holding a peanut butter sandwich in one hand, chewing. He looked from one to another. "What's going on?"

Cyborg turned to him, his human features in dismay.

"We've lost Batman…"

* * *

**AN: So...Batman begins his journey...where will he end up? However, next chapter will be back to Clark and Diana, newly separated. How is Clark faring without his Diana? Tune in next week dear readers! As always, thanks for reading this far, and please review! (BTW, saw Man of Steel and loved it!)**


	27. Chapter 20 - The Getai

**Chapter 20 – The Getai**

**[AN: This chapter is done in flashbacks, MoS-stye!]**

_Three Months Later_

Paradise Island is aptly named: its southern end forms tropical jungles and white beaches and cliffs which surround and protect the capital city of the Amazons. Behind the capital, the land gradually transforms, and resembles the grassy steppes of their ancestral homelands in Man's World. Small villages and tent encampments are scattered here and there, like islands within an island, for the Amazons who preferred country or nomadic living over life in the marble city.

Further inland, the grasslands give way to dense forests and valleys; creatures believed by the inhabitants of Man's World to belong only to myth dwelled here: centaurs and harpies and great lizards. They are not truly intelligent lifeforms, although some had a kind of instinctive cunning that kept the Amazons always alert, and provided them opportunities to keep their martial skills honed. However, the Amazons rarely ventured into their habitats; they were more of a nuisance than any real threat.

At the furthermost end of the island the land rises up into impressive hills and mountains, cut by deep ravines and dotted with deep blue lakes. Anyone enamored of the rural beauty of Scotland or Ireland would find much to recognize and love here. Here in this wild land lived the tribe of the Getai, the wild Amazons of the North.

The Getai, although similar to their southern sisters in ferocity and attitudes, preferred their own customs: they disdained buildings of heavy stone for their earthy homes of sod and timber, and they refused to wear the lithe Greek-style dress typical of the capital. They preferred their woolen black-striped plaids, worn in a single wrap about their bodies; any exposed parts they painted with woad, especially when out fighting or hunting with their favorite weapon, the longsword. The strongest and most respected warriors wore torques of gold and silver about their arms and necks, or pierced their faces with gold pins, their only condescension to wearing jewelry.

The largest of their buildings, where they held Assembly and conducted their periodic celebrations, was known as the Great Hall of the Getai. Just as magnificent as the Queen's Palace, it was just as colossal but constructed from massive beams of oak. The vast interior was lit and warmed by roaring hearth fires and metal braziers. The interior could accommodate hundreds of people, seated at long tables. Once the business of their Assembly was finished, the Getai would stay to feast and socialize for hours. These occasions were very festive and wild. The Getai liked a party, and even scandalized their southern sisters with their excesses.

On this particular evening the Getai assembled in their Great Hall in larger numbers than usual. Spits held whole boars and bulls, crackling and roasting over big fires. Many barrels of strong ale and mead satisfied them while they waited. There was excitement in the air this night. Word had gone round to all the Getai villages that this Assembly would be exceptionally memorable, so the Hall was filled to capacity. The place was filled with their shouting and singing, and they amused themselves with the usual wrestling and drinking matches while they waited. As the evening grew, their anticipation grew with it, like spectators at a rock concert.

Finally, there was a commotion near the giant entranceway of the Great Hall. Heads eagerly turned at the sound. One sister's shout echoed all the way to the back of the building.

"He's here!"

All the Getai immediately turned their attention to the giant entranceway; some began elbowing and shoving each other in order to get a better view. This was a spectacle many of them had waited months for, ever since the stranger arrived in their part of Themyscira. Of course, they had all heard the stories and rumors. Now here was their chance to see if they were true!

Into the Great Hall was brought a male - the first time in living memory this had happened. He was tall, dark of hair and heavily muscled; his roughly bearded face looking all about him in bewilderment at his surroundings. His arms were secured to his sides with the thick chains usually reserved for centaurs.

At this first sight of him the Getai roared, banging their drinking cups on the wooden tables, until the walls and high-ceilinged roof thundered with their riotous noise. One of their sisters held an end of the chain that secured the man. Now, without speaking, she strode to the center of the Great Hall, pulling the bound man along behind her as the crowds of women split into two halves. As he walked down the gauntlet they shrieked and shouted in his face, waved their fists, and jumped wildly as if they would attack him right then and there.

Clark could feel their spittle landing on his arms and face, and he twisted away, trying to avoid them, but bound as he was he couldn't do much. This was a _much_ different reception than when he'd first arrived on Themyscira.

He didn't look directly at the fierce women who were tightly pressed on either side of him, all of them hollering angrily as if he were a member of the visiting football team who was winning on the home turf. They were all acting like they wanted to tear him to pieces right there. He tried to think of what he would do if they all suddenly decided to rush him at once; there would be no way to get out of there without causing a lot of destruction, and he wasn't entirely certain they didn't have magicked weapons either. What he had seen and experienced since arriving in this place had convinced him that anything was possible with these crazy women!

When they reached the center of the Hall the Getai warrior shoved him roughly forward, and stepped away, and the other Getai backed off as well, leaving Clark alone in a small space. A hush descended over the Great Hall as all the warrior women watched him, holding their breath. Clark just stood there for a moment, uncertain. He tensed - were they going to attack now? What the hell were they waiting for? But none of them moved, although all their eyes were on him expectantly. Suddenly, he thought he knew what they wanted.

It was one of the oldest and easiest tricks in his repertoire. Usually he only performed it for the little kids whenever he did a hospital or orphanage visit. He inhaled and flung out his arms, flexing his pectoral muscles.

The chains wrapped around him burst asunder, sending links of heavy chain flying throughout the Hall, causing some of the Amazons to scatter or duck quickly out of the way.

There was a collective gasp of shock as they saw Clark standing free and unbound…then, just as suddenly, the air was filled with cheering and thunderous applause. The Getai once again banged their tankards on the long tables , but in ecstatic admiration, now acting as if he'd just scored the winning touchdown. Clark stood there perplexed as the previously hostile crowd gathered around him, grinning and slapping him on the back. This all made about as much sense as anything that had happened to him since he first arrived here!

* * *

_Three Months Ago_

The journey to the north had been mostly uneventful, Clark recalled. The scenery and the weather was great. It was too bad he didn't have a camera, since he could have snapped some award-winning shots that would make Jimmy jealous. The only thing missing, which would have made it perfect, was Diana by his side.

He was aware he was only trying to keep his mind off their separation by thinking about anything else. He wondered if Vanessa guessed this and was trying to help, because she maintained a constant chatter as the ancient wooden wagon trundled along the rough dirt roads. By Rao, how she could talk! She would make a great teacher someday…or else make her students nuts. Still, it did keep his mind from how much he missed his wife.

"…I'm sure you've noticed by now how the Amazons aren't exactly like the ancient Greeks," Vanessa lectured, as if she were in a classroom. "My mother believes they emerged as a distinct ethnic group in Asia Minor, sometime around 2,000 B.C. Around 1,000 B.C. the tribe split into several distinct groups, one founding ancient Themyscira, and another branch migrating north towards Iran and Ukraine, where they eventually lost their distinct identity and assimilated with other tribes, most likely the Sarmatians if we go by the ancient historians. Of course the Themysciran branch is the one here on the island today…"

As they traveled, Clark listened with half an ear as she talked. He glanced behind him at the contents of the wagon, and noticed one box contained swords and daggers and various other types of arms.

"What are the weapons for?"

Startled, Vanessa remembered that Superman had x-ray vision.

"Oh! Those are gifts for the Getai. Sometimes Queen Hippolyta sends presents to various people, as a token of respect and affection. These weapons are mostly for show, not fighting. Unless a harpy leaves its nest and starts causing trouble, or…"

"Or if uninvited visitors turn up on their shores?"

Vanessa looked sideways at him. "That really doesn't happen that often. Of course I know that the last man to come here – before you I mean – was Colonel Trevor, but before that, perhaps not for seventy years or more. I heard a story that a bunch of Nazis somehow wound up here, but the Amazons made short work of them."

"Hippolyta told you all this?"

Vanessa chuckled. "No, I had to find that out for myself! The Amazons are very tight-lipped about their history. Even though I passed the Iron Rite, they're not that chatty."

Clark recalled Diana had mentioned that ritual, once or twice, in passing, but she never really elaborated on it.

"This Iron Rite, I remember you mentioned it before…what exactly is that?"

"Erm…well…it essentially functions as a coming-of-age ceremony among the Amazons. It's one of their most intimate rituals. A transition from girlhood to womanhood, it confirms her identity as a full member of the Amazon tribe. Almost all pre-modern societies have this type of rite of passage…" Her voice began to drift off into lecturing again.

"But in the Amazons' case, it's also to learn how to hate men?" Clark couldn't help the bitterness from seeping into his voice. He was thinking again about what Vanessa had told him.

Vanessa looked uncomfortable, seeing the look in his eyes. "It's…a bit more complicated than that. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you what I did the other night."

"Why not?" Clark said indignantly. "I'm going to be the father of an Amazon child…I have a right to know what could happen to my child, don't I?"

"No, of course you do…I only meant that I didn't mean to upset you, Superman. I didn't know-"

"Neither you or Diana can give me a clear answer as to what happens to boy infants here, and that's supposed to not 'upset' me. Well, it does!"

"Many other societies in our world practice selective-"

"That doesn't make it right!"

Vanessa noticeably flinched. Clark checked himself, when he saw that he was frightening her; he sometimes forgot how intimidating he could be when roused.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to take it out on you."

"That's all right, Superman…"

"Kal…please."

"Kal…I _can't_ tell you what really happens. When I said I shouldn't have told you...my mother told me, that as an anthropologist my first duty is to the people I study, to respect their beliefs. The early anthropologists didn't always do that, they would lie and steal from indigenous peoples to get their knowledge."

Clark understood about respecting sources. "And that's why you won't tell me, even if you could."

"No, it's because I don't…I don't really know." Vanessa sighed. "I wish I did. Then maybe I could give you an answer. There's so many things I still have to learn. But I think you already guessed that the Amazons can be a cruel people, sometimes. It's not all hot chicks in short skirts feeding each other grapes and strumming lyres, like the media makes it out at home."

"You also learned that from this 'Iron Rite'?"

"I…learned how they became that way, and why it's such a powerful...memory," Vanessa replied quietly, making Clark wonder again about what went on in the ritual. "I can't tell you what happens during it - that would be a violation of my scholar's ethics. But it's very powerful. Very…liberating, in a way."

Vanessa didn't say anymore about it, and Clark didn't press her, but he suspected it probably involved a lot of mystical nonsense. Diana had some odd beliefs herself, he knew, although she wouldn't discuss them out loud, even with him. But still, it disturbed him that she would keep secrets like that from him. He hadn't held back from showing her everything in the Fortress, but as for something like this, she would just veer off the topic. Yet, even though he'd tried, he hadn't been able break through to her on that. He just hoped it wouldn't be a sticking point in their relationship.

For the next several hours Vanessa didn't speak of any more Amazon rituals, secret or otherwise, limiting herself to talking about her mother's archaeological expeditions around the world and her highly publicized battles with right-wing wackos. The only time she stopped talking was when they approached the first Amazon village. Compared to the capital this was a tiny hamlet, a bucolic village of small stone homes and other buildings.

"I have to make some deliveries here," Vanessa said. "We shouldn't be long, don't worry!"

Clark looked around curiously as they rolled into what looked like the town square, marked by a statue of the Queen. There were a few Amazons about, clad only in short working tunics that left one breast exposed (he was glad he was inured to the sight by now). At first they didn't seem surprised to see Vanessa or the vehicle, but as soon as they saw Clark most of them either froze, and stared openly or hurried quickly inside their buildings as if he was contagious.

Vanessa threw on her helmet, jumped down, and picked up some of the boxes from the back of the wagon. Clark also hopped down off the seat, glad to move around.

"Could I help you?"

"Um, that might not look good. Can you water the horses instead?"

Clark looked around him. "Sure. But-"

"Just stay by the wagon and don't say anything, if you can help it! I'll be right back!"

Vanessa hurried off, her arms full of boxes and scrolls, leaving Clark alone with the horses. He led them to the water trough, and tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, although as the only man in a village full of half-naked women it was somewhat difficult. The few Amazons who still remained outside just stood and stared.

As he quietly waited for the horses to finish drinking, two Amazons walked directly towards him; Clark tensed, but he soon found they had no intention of talking to him.

"So - this must be the man that's the talk of the capital," one of them said, a dark-haired woman who looked a bit like Xena the Warrior Princess from the television show. "I must say he really doesn't seem all that impressive."

"Yes, I was there when the flying man landed years ago," her blonde-haired companion added. "This one doesn't look quite as intelligent."

"I agree. By Hera, why would Princess Diana bring this man here?"

"He is said to be a great hero in Man's World. Her defeat and capture of him must raise her stature there highly, I would think. I have heard that the Queen has put him to labor in the capital. Seems fitting for such a thick-looking creature."

Clark steamed inwardly at their nerve. They were less than two feet away from him! They probably thought he couldn't understand their language.

Then, the dark-haired Amazon reached out and casually squeezed his bicep several times, as if she were checking a melon at the supermarket. She didn't even seem to notice his stunned glare.

"He looks strong enough for that. Healthy, good muscle tone," she remarked to her friend. "I wonder if we can put in a request to the Palace to have him repair our theater?"

"In any case, if this is the best Man's World has to offer, maybe we should return with Princess Diana and help her run the place!"

"Perhaps the Queen plans other uses for this man - the only other use I could possibly think of would be as prime breeding stock."

"Unless the Princess had him gelded after her victory!"

The two Amazons laughed merrily as Clark clenched his teeth.

"Check him and see, Aisya!"

When the blonde Amazon actually reached for the front of his tunic, Clark pushed her away, not hard, but she was so startled she fell backwards on her butt in the dust.

"Get off!" Clark snapped, in Themysciran.

Both of the Amazons stared at him, openmouthed in shock.

"He…he talks!" They both gasped together.

Clark momentarily had a fantasy of doing his best Charlton Heston in _Planet of the Apes_ impression and yelling: _Get your paws off me you damned, dirty Amazons! _But no doubt they wouldn't get it. Fortunately he was rescued by Vanessa's return. She took one look at the still-stunned Amazons and said to Clark.

"Let's get out of here!"

Clark agreed wholeheartedly. The next second they were rolling out of the village square, leaving the flabbergasted Amazons.

"What happened back there?" Vanessa gasped.

"I'm not too sure. But if you hadn't come back when you did, they would have checked my teeth next!"

The rest of the trip was less dramatic. Vanessa stopped in two more villages, but nothing as exciting (or embarrassing) as that episode occurred. The Amazons either fled from him like the plague or just pointed and gawked as if he were a circus animal. Still, to get to their destination via their old-fashioned method meant they had to spend a night on the road, which meant more of Vanessa's scholarly lectures round the campfire. But Clark found that he really enjoyed her company, especially when Vanessa revealed she had brought homemade marshmallows with her.

"It's not quite the same as home," Vanessa said as they roasted them over their campfire. "But better than nothing!"

Clark agreed, his mouth full. "What else can you tell me about where we're going?"

"We'll be in the Getai's lands tomorrow. Like I told you, their tribe came here centuries after Hippolyta and her Amazons. At first, the Amazons tried to repel them. The Getai said that their goddesses showed them the way to Themyscira, and they had every right to be here too, since they were also women. They fought several battles to a draw, then Hippolyta and their queen, Boudicaa, fought in single combat to determine whether or not the Getai would settle here."

"Do you mean the real Queen Boudicaa?"

Clark remembered reading the story in history class. Boudicaa was an English queen, or chief, who led a violent rebellion against Rome and was defeated after a series of bloody battles. Her body was never found.

Vanessa nodded. "I think so, but I have never met her."

"What happened?"

"Hippolyta and Boudicaa fought an epic duel, until finally Hippolyta won. But she said that since Boudicaa and the Getai had fought honorably, and if they were willing to live peacefully with the Amazons and accept Hippolyta's queenship, they would be allowed to settle here. So they did. There's this whole other bit with the gods and goddesses intervening also, but I think that's all myth. So the Getai have lived here ever since. Boudicaa is still their leader, although technically Hippolyta is the overall Queen."

"Wow," Clark thought a moment. "But do they have the same attitudes towards men?"

Vanessa shrugged. "They're almost indistinguishable from other Amazons, except their dress."

An animalistic screech pierced the night air; Vanessa whirled around, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword. Clark stood up, looking around quickly.

"Can you see what it is?" Vanessa whispered.

"I don't see anything...now. Sounded like some kind of big cat."

"There are lots of wild animals on Themyscira, but at least I don't think that was a harpy."

"Do they attack people?"

"Sometimes, but we're not near their habitats. We should be ok, if we keep this fire going."

Clark's eyes flashed, and the fire blazed even higher.

"Wow!" Vanessa exclaimed. "Sometimes I forget you're Superman, Kal!"

Fortunately for the rest of the night they heard nothing else. Clark had offered to sit up and keep watch but Vanessa said she didn't think it was necessary. They settled down to sleep.

Later, Vanessa slipped off into the brush to make a 'number one'. Sighing, Vanessa thought that sometimes the one thing she really missed from Man's World was soft toilet paper. As she walked back to their campsite, she felt a hand grasp her wrist.

Silently and swiftly, without a gasp or any other scream, Vanessa's sword flashed out of its scabbard, and the blade struck Superman's neck. Of course, it only bounced off, and he was standing there, staring at her thoughtfully.

Vanessa's eyes were wide and unblinking with the whites prominent, a look Clark had seen before, when he was an embedded reporter...in Afghanistan. He thought that in that moment she looked a bit like Diana when she was in her full battle-frenzy. Then just as abruptly it was gone and she clamped a hand to her mouth, her sword falling to her side.

"Ohmygod! I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you..."

"No, I didn't mean to startle you," Clark said quietly. "I just wanted to see something."

Vanessa was puzzled. "What?"

Clark thought about the Iron Rite again. _What have they done to you?_ "Just your Amazon side."

He walked back to the campsite, leaving Vanessa to follow him, puzzled.

The next day, as they traveled further north, Clark noted the slight cooler change in temperature and the scenery. It was still beautiful, but definitely a change from the tropical climate where the capital was. Vanessa wrapped her scarlet cloak tighter around her, chatting again as if nothing had happened.

As they crested a short ridge, Vanessa abruptly pulled up the wagon.

"Why are we stopping?"

Vanessa pointed to a hill in the distance. "Look there!"

There were a group of horsewomen on the hilltop, watching them. Although they were far off, Clark could see their tartan dress, and that one or two had faces painted with some kind of dark paint. One woman, with long reddish-blonde hair and something golden glittering at her neck, was at their forefront, watching them intensely They made no movement.

Vanessa jumped off the wagon and raised her arms, crossing them at the wrists, and bowed in their direction. She looked rather tense, Clark saw. Vanessa just waited. Finally, the horsewomen rode out of sight, and Vanessa relaxed, lowering her arms.

"Was that the Getai?"

She nodded. "We're in their territory now. I just saluted them in the Amazon way. Sometimes they like to fight first and ask questions later."

"Great."

However, as they pressed deeper into the Getai territory, they saw no one else, although trail markers began appearing more frequently. Clark sensed they were getting closer to their destination and he felt apprehension pooling in the pit of his stomach, although he didn't know why. Whatever Hippolyta had planned, he could face it down.

At last, when the sun was beginning to go down, the wagon pulled up to two large and rather ramshackle buildings. One was a house perhaps two or three stories, Clark guessed, and looked a bit like a medieval mansion, slighly gone to seed. Behind it was the most rundown barn Clark had ever seen. It was visibly leaning to the right, like the Tower of Pisa, and looked as if might blow down with the next good wind. Between it and the house was a big overgrown field.

"We're here!" Vanessa said.

"Where's 'here'?" Clark suddenly felt an intense trepidation.

"Your new home!"

"This doesn't look like-"

Suddenly, the door of the house flew open, and out rushed a Getai woman carrying a club menacingly in one large hand. As soon as Clark saw her he knew he was in trouble. She had a shock of short bristly hair a shade redder than even Vanessa's, and looked to be no less than 300 solid pounds. She wore a tartan dress which reminded Clark of one of old Miss Edna Mae's muumuus.

"'Ere now, what is this! Who are ye...?" Her eyes fell on Clark and her mouth dropped open. It was a look Clark thought was finally getting old to him.

"And you are?" Vanessa inquired politely.

"I am Dierdre," the big Getai woman said loudly, puffing herself up. "I am the mistress of this academy! I have neither been expecting nor wanting any visit of...this sort!" Her eyes were still fastened on Clark, blinking rapidly, as if he could be a hallucination.

"Well Dierdre, thank you for your effusive welcome," Vanessa said as she dismounted. "I am bringing you a dispatch from your Queen, Hippolyta, may the Goddess bless her." She handed the startled Amazon a large scroll.

"Blessins' be," Dierdre repeated rotely as she took it from her suspiciously. She unrolled and read it, her expression growing more appalled each second.

"This…this _man_ is to live here? Whatever am I to do with such a creature?"

"His name is Kal. If you'll read on, you'll see that he is the answer to your request for help around the farm and the school," Vanessa replied, a bit testily.

_School? _Clark thought.

"I nae asked for a man! I asked for a brace of oxen, or a draft horse even, not…not this!" Dierdre sputtered, waving her hand at Clark. "I can't have this man around th' place! What if…what if he spreads some disease from Man's World?"

"This is _Superman_, he doesn't _have_ diseases!" Vanessa shouted.

Clark sighed and looked around, as the two women began bickering. So - this was to be his place of exile for the next seven months. Wonderful. At least it looked peaceful and quiet. He bent down, grasped a clump of earth and turned it over in his hand. It was dark, rich soil. This was prime farmland, thought Clark.

A noise from the house made him turn around. From one of the windows, a small round head peeped out at him, then another, then a third. As soon they saw him looking back, they vanished from the sill. Startled, he used his x-ray vision, and saw a whole gaggle of kids hiding just out of sight of the windows.

_What the hell is this place?_

Clark turned to the two women, still arguing. "Where am I? What is this place?"

Dierdre stared at him, as if shocked at his impudence in speaking aloud. "Did ye not hear, man? This is an academy!"

"Kal, this is an orphanage," Vanessa explained. "It's also a school."

_Orphans_?

"Why did Hippolyta send me here?"

"Perhaps she thought this might be good training for you? Being a new dad and all?"

Vanessa's tone sounded positive. Clark wasn't so sure about that. Dierdre looked annoyed, angry, and upset all at once.

"Aye, what she thought was that the gods and goddesses 'ave not pissed on me enough!" Dierdre threw up her hands. "Fields gone fallow, everythin' falling down about me head, and now here's this _man_ of all things! What good is he? He will nae be stain' here!"

"It is the Queen's Royal Order!" Vanessa tried to spin it, next. "Dierdre, this is really an honor for you! Superman is Princess Diana's consort, and the Queen thought enough of you to, ah, loan him to you for a few months, to fix up the place."

"I am expected to be grateful?"

"The Queen expects you to _help_ her. Will you accept?"

Something about the phrase seemed to make Dierdre reconsider. She grumbled, but nodded. "Very well. As long as he behaves himself! The minute he..."

"Wonderful!" Vanessa said. "Then that's settled. I'll be off, then."

Clark looked at her in alarm. "You're leaving now?"

"I have some more deliveries to make. But you'll be fine here!" She winked at him. "Take care, Kal!" Vanessa climbed back on the wagon and gave Clark his bag from the back. "Remember, you're not supposed to fly - I'll be back promptly in seven months!"

Clark nodded, reluctantly. As Vanessa rode off, waving, Dierdre planted herself in front of Clark and looked him up and down. Although she was shorter than him, she didn't look the least bit intimidated by his size. He noticed she didn't let go of her club.

"Aye, well, I suppose you'll have to do, for now. Ye look strong enough. Are you used to farm work, man?"

"My name is Kal. And yes, I grew up on a farm actually."

"Good. Because ye'll have nothing to do with th' children! What I need is help with th' fields and all th' other work around the place. I'll be doing th' educatin' of the little ones. Ye'll be workin' hard. Come, I shall show you around."

Without waiting to see if Clark was following her she strode away towards the barn.

"Ye'll be sleepin' in there," Dierdre pointed to the shell of the barn. "The school is for meself and the children only. There's a well outside. Do ye're business outside, not indoors, I don't want ye foulin' the hay."

"I was potty-trained very early," Clark said quietly.

"Ye'll start work before th' dawn. We have some goats and hens that need seein' to daily. Also it will be plantin' season soon. One of yer duties will be to collect the night soil, I keep it in a pail out back, you may use it for fertilizin'."

"I was once nominated for a Pulitzer, have you ever heard of it?"

"I don't expect ye to understand right away, man, but if ye dinnae understan' somethin' ask me, don't just flitter off and wreck somethin'! Or ye'll fix it!"

"No, I guess not."

Dierdre ignored him, gestured for Clark to follow him back to the farmhouse, where even more of the small heads were popping out of the windows, and the doorways.

"How many of them are there?"

The Getai woman scowled at the question as if he had no business asking, but she answered. "There are nine girls in my keeping. As I say, you will not approach them without my permission. I instruct them as to all the perfidy of Man's World, and I don't need you ta' prove my words for me. Wait here."

Dierdre went inside. The girls all disappeared after Dierdre shouted at them for staring and not studying. Then she came back out, carrying a hunk of bread. She tossed it to him. It had the consistency of a cinderblock.

"Yer dinner, since ye've missed it. I keep no leavins' for unexpected guests. Ye'll take yer meals away in the barn too. Ye'll start in the mornin'. Now, off with ye."

Dierdre stomped off back inside the house, and commenced to scolding the little Amazon girls again. Seeing that there was nothing else to do, Clark walked back to the barn. He had never imagined something like this, but he would make the best of it, he guessed.

The barn was in a worse state than he thought; there were huge holes in the roof and the walls, and it was a miracle the hay had not spoiled. The smell of manure was very strong, and the animals started bleating as soon as he walked in. He crouched down, picked up an old wool blanket he found on the ground. For a moment he was assailed by powerful memories of his old farm in Smallville, although he or his Pa would never have let the place deteriorate like this. Perhaps this place had possibility: if he managed to get this place fixed and looking good (providing this Dierdre woman didn't freak out on him), perhaps Hippolyta would come around, especially once Diana had the baby. Also, if he didn't give any threat to the Amazons locally, maybe they would let him alone. Clark saw the possibility of having his own farm here, and Diana could relax knowing their child would be raised among her sisters, and not in the Metropolis public school system, and...

A menacing growl which came from the darkest recess of the barn made Clark stand slowly, cautiously. Something came forward, on four legs, teeth bared and snarling, but did not attack. It just stood there, watching him. Clark sniffed the blanket. Yes, definitely a dog smell. He realized he'd just snapped up this poor creature's bed. The dog was still growling, but clearly it was for show, somehow realizing in its mind it was helpless against this two-legged giant.

Clark stretched out his hand to the dog, in a non-threatening gesture. The big dog took one step forward, still growling. Underneath the dirt, Clark could tell that he had a white coat. He tore off a chunk of the hard bread, and put the blanket back down on the ground.

"C'mon boy. We're both in the doghouse, so I guess we can share, huh?"

* * *

The first faint slivers of dawn streamed through the slats of the barn, falling onto Clark's sleeping face. His eyelids twitched. Something warm was curled up against his back, and in his dream-state imagined he was back in the Palace with Diana lying next to him. He reached for her. However, the dream was ruined when Krypto (somehow the name seemed to fit) farted and whined.

Clark's eyelids twitched, and he opened them a sliver. He could see the sun, but he felt just the faintest patter on his skin. It couldn't be raining, could it? No doubt the roof would be leaky. Then he heard a voice behind him.

"Up, slave."

Clark blinked the sleep out of his eyes and looked over his shoulder. He turned to see a little girl standing at his feet, clad in a miniature version of a _chiton_, holding a stick in one hand. She waved it threateningly at him, like Dierdre had waved her club.

"It is past daybreak! Get to work!" She whacked him on the butt again with her stick.

Clark rubbed his eyes. "Shouldn't you be in school by now?"

The little girl blinked. She hadn't expected the man to talk back to her! This wasn't how the game was supposed to go. Maybe he didn't understand, being a man. She hit him again with the stick, enunciating her words.

"It. Is. Time. For. You. To. Work!"

It was way too early in the morning for this. Clark sat up, and snatched the stick away from her, although a little too brusquely.

"Look, little girl…"

The girl's eyes widened and she turned on her heel and ran out of the barn as fast as she could, before Clark could say anything.

Great, now he had frightened her away. Good start, Kent, he thought glumly. You're making wonderful first impressions, everywhere. He glanced over at Krypto, but he was busy scratching himself.

As he walked outside, he saw Dierdre outside, standing in a circle composed of tree stumps, each occupied by an Amazon girl ranging from five to perhaps ten years, holding papyrus scrolls in their hands. Their heads all shot towards Clark as he approached them, their eyes wide. He found he was full of questions. What had happened to their parents? What were they being taught?

But Dierdre snapped at them to keep their attention on their work. She had a long thin stick long enough to reach any of the girls on their makeshift seat so they immediately looked down at their scrolls.

"What're ye waitin' for?" Dierdre shouted at Clark. "Get to work, man! Ye missed breakfast! We eat 'ere before sunup!"

Sighing again, Clark walked away, not noticing that some of the girls looking at him out of the corner of her eyes.

For the next several months Clark's life eventually began to settle into a routine which was, if not exactly comfortable, at least was busy so it kept his mind off his worries for Diana. He did the routine chores around the farm, paying attention to even the smallest detail, so that even Dierdre found little to complain about…which didn't stop her from complaining, but became more of a habit than anything. At first she didn't allow him to talk to the girls in her care, but it was impossible not to; they would often run up to her passing along whatever fresh orders Dierdre had for him, so that he got to learn all their names. Their mothers had all died either in accidents, or were attacked by feral harpies or centaurs, he'd also learned. While Dierdre wasn't exactly the nicest schoolmarm, Clark could tell she looked after them devotedly. It would have been completely peaceful if it wasn't for the Getai.

Actually, it was the appearance of the Getai which made Dierdre relent and allow him into the farmhouse at all. They came riding up the farm, not coming too close, just a single woman on horseback armed with spear and shield, observing him sharply, as if memorizing his movements and habits. Krypto would always give first warning, barking at anyone who rode up. At first, they didn't do anything and just watched, like those women he and Vanessa saw on the hill. Then, about a month after Clark had been there, the riders began shouting challenges at him, insulting his manhood, all the usual stuff trying to get him to fight. Clark had heard it all before, ever since grade school. It was clear these Amazons wanted to claim they fought him in single combat. The best thing to do was to ignore it, and that was what he did - if they got too close he simply hovered in the air, out of their reach, until they rode away in exasperation, cursing him for a coward, and so forth. They became such a nuisance, that eventually Dierdre would push Clark into the farmhouse out of sight while she chased off the intruder with her big _shillelagh_ (Clark had never seen such a heavy woman move so fast). At first, the girls would run off and hide from him, but being kids, thought Clark, their curiosity won over, and they began to talk to him. Clearly, Clark saw, they weren't born with an ingrained fear and hate of men.

Perhaps this was something he could begin to change.

Halkyone, one of the older girls, approached him one time, shyly asking. "Why don't you fight, Kal?"

He smiled. "Because I don't want to."

"But isn't that what men do best? Fight?"

Clark shook his head. "I'm not here to fight. Fighting pointlessly doesn't make a man."

"I thought you fought our Princess?"

"That was different. We're friends."

Halkyone frowned. "My big sisters will take your refusal to fight as an insult."

"I don't mean to insult them, but I won't fight them."

"I fight my sisters here all the time!" Halkyone raised her small fists. "We have to, if we want to eat."

Clark shook his head. "Do you _want_ to fight?"

Halkyone stared at him uncomprehendingly, much like Diana would if he'd asked her that question, Clark thought. But before the little girl could answer, Dierdre came into view, blotting out the sun, it seemed to Clark. Halkyone ran off before the big woman could yell, but her ire was reserved for Clark.

"I overheard. How long have ye been here on our Island and ye still do not understand?"

"I also don't fight because it wouldn't be a contest. You know that by now don't you?" He'd certainly given enough displays of his strength here.

Dierdre scowled. "The Getai will come for ye. Soon, yet know not when. Hippolyta is our Queen, but sending a man here, even to my little school out here...I know my sisters and they will be restless."

"What do they want from me?" Clark stared at her. "I told you, they can't beat me in a fight."

Whether or not we can _beat_ you is not th' issue, it is our _honor_. We can say at least we fought! Perhaps our honor is not as where ye're from, but unless you understan' that, you will never understand our people, even if ye've bedded one."

Dierdre walked away, leaving Clark to ponder that.

The next night the Getai came for him. A posse of ten horsewomen, all armed to the teeth, carrying torches, their faces smeared with white-and-black paint which made them look like deranged Slipknot groupies.

"We''re here for you, man!" One of them shouted. "Come out!"

Dierdre only shook her head, her arms folded over her massive chest, her wards huddled behind her, watching with mixed anxiety and curiosity as to what their visitor would do. Clark looked back outside, saw that the horsewomen were heavily armed, and carrying chains. Dierdre couldn't run them off and she knew it.

"They wouldn't attack the school would they?"

Dierdre frowned, almost like a pout. "They won't leave without wha' they came for."

"But that's crazy! The Queen said I would have no trouble here."

"The Queen is a long way off. What will ye do?"

"Looks like I have no choice. I'll go with them, then," Clark replied. "Don't wait up for me. I'll be back in the morning." _I hope._

Then he'd gone outside, his arms up. He'd correctly guessed they were there to take him to their chief or queen, not to attack him; without a word to him they bound him with the thick chains and led him away, forcing him to jog on foot behind their horses. He'd turned around to look at the school; he didn't see Dierdre but he saw Halkyone's face and the other little girls, their expressions both pained and puzzled.

So that was how he'd ended up here, with all these hollering women.

Now, instead of threatening him, they pushed him to one of the tables and made him sit down at the head. The next second, he had more food than he could eat in a week shoved before him, not to mention big mugs of their foaming ale. The music started up again, and they just went back to what they were doing, which seemed to be getting their drink on. Yet no one seemed interested in having a quiet and thought-provoking conversation with him, mostly they were giving him coy looks, the kind he'd occasionally gotten at the _Daily Planet'_s Christmas parties, which clearly said, _Why don't you and I go outside for a quickie? _He did his best to ignore them, eating and drinking only lightly, wondering how he could escape from this new predicament. They seemed to be waiting for something else to happen, but Clark wasn't sure what it was.

As the night wore on, the revelry seemed, impossibly, to get even more rowdy. Some of the Getai women, clearly very drunk, were falling over, or over their partners, more excited now with each other than the revelry.

_If Hal was here, _Clark thought_, his brain would explode._

Speaking of which, that look which some of the Getai had given him had grown quite implicitly to _Why don't you and I just do it right here, on the table? _Clark thought this might be the best time to slip out, with hopefully no one noticing.

He stood up, and carefully eased his way out of his seat, trying to edge past his table. But one of the Getai Amazons saw him and fastened herself on him, and grinned leeringly. While she was somewhat cute she was also missing a full complement of teeth. She slurred something to him; Clark couldn't make it out but it was definitely not a courteous offer to escort him to his home. The other Getai saw them and laughed, while the snaggle-toothed woman clung even harder to him. Clark looked around desperately, but no one was about to leap to his rescue.

Then a hand grasped the drunken Getai's shoulder. "Enough." A voice said calmly but firmly.

Clark saw that the newcomer was a tall and slender Getai, elaborately worked golden armlets decorating her biceps and forearms which were tattooed with beautiful blue swirling Celtic patterns. She had the same long reddish-blonde hair as the rider on the hilltop, and Clark recognized she was the same person.

The Getai turned on her and snarled. "Feck off! I saw 'im first!"

With a frighteningly loud and unexpected roar, the tall Getai woman grabbed a spit-bucket and upended it on Clark's offender. She then slammed the metal pail down on the drunken Amazon's head, and followed it up by slamming her braceleted forearm against it. The woman collapsed, like a sack of bricks onto the ground, out cold, while everyone roared uproariously at the sight as if it was the funniest thing they'd seen in ages.

Before Clark could think of what to do next, the Amazon turned to Clark, once again as calm as before, as if nothing had happened.

"I am sorry for that, but I thought we could speak to each other easier outside, where it is less noisy."

For a moment, Clark stood still, nonplussed; then he realized that the woman had spoken not in Themysciran but in English, and that a perfect British English as if she worked at the BBC. He made no resistance as the woman gently led him outside the Great Hall; none of the Getai stood in their way. When they were outside, in the fresh air, Clark turned to her gratefully.

"Thank you," Clark managed to reply, in English also. "But who are you?"

The woman smiled.

"I'm Boudicaa."

* * *

**AN: Another mega-chapter here, setting the scene with the Celtic-like Amazons - will Supes and them be enemies or allies? My inspiration for this was seeing this British TV movie (available on YouTube) starring Alex Kingston (River Song on DW!) as Boudicaa. Clark is going to get closer to some more Amazon secrets, and he won't like what he learns. The scene with her will be in the next installment, and we also learn what Diana (and Philippus and her gang) have been up to in Clark's absence. Or...perhaps a preview of what has happened with (or to) Steve Trevor...and what happened to Batman in the cave?**


	28. Chapter 21 - What Price Wisdom

**Chapter 21 – What Price Wisdom**

**[AN: This is a joint Clark/Diana chapter! Enjoy!]**

Astonished at what he'd just witnessed, Clark let himself be led away from the Great Hall by the magnificent Getai Amazon who'd called herself Boudicaa. No one else tried to stop them, and soon they were outside in the cool night air.

"Let us walk, you and I, Kal-el," Boudicaa suggested, still speaking in her cultured English accent. "We will be able to talk without any further scenes."

A line of torches lit the wide path surrounding the massive oaken building. Clark could still hear the wild revelry within but it was subdued and refreshing quiet pervaded the forest around them. As they walked, she slipped her arm through his but in a friendly way, as if they were old friends catching up.

"I must apologize for my sisters' treatment of you, Kal-el," Boudicaa said apologetically. "I am afraid you must think us a lot of savages!"

"No, not at all," Clark stammered. "I was just surprised by your...your…"

Boudicaa laughed. "We must seem so different to you, especially after your ordeal in the capital! Yes, I have heard all about your experiences there. Tell me: how are you faring at Dierdre's little school? Is she treating you well?"

"I suppose so. She's stopped taking random swings at me with that big stick of hers, after she broke two of them, anyway. Other than that, since I fixed her barn she sort of tolerates having me around. The food, well, it's not too bad, but…"

Boudicaa shook her head. "Dierdre is quite temperamental but conscientious in her way. I will see to it that she treats you better. After all, you are our guest."

There was something about the way she said that last word that made Clark wonder if she intended some other meaning.

"May I ask: are you…_the_ Boudicaa?"

She lifted an eyebrow. "Do you mean the 'Boudicaa' you may have read about in Man's World?"

Clark nodded.

"Yes, one and the same," Boudicaa stared up at the night sky. "Although it seems like only yesterday. Sometimes I have to remember that it was so long ago, all those battles...with so many dead…" Her voice trailed off for a moment. "But my life is here now. The person you read about in your history is just that – a figment of history. I am an Amazon of Themyscira, now."

She gave another one of her pleasantly amused laughs. "Still, I sense you have so many more questions! Perhaps I can answer one of them right now…although we follow the customs of our Amazon sisters, we do differ in some ways. As you were able to see for yourself, we don't hate all men."

Clark breathed a sigh of relief.

"Unless they're Romans," Boudicaa winked at Clark. "But the Romans are ancient history, too. Still, so much of Man's World is their legacy, all the endless struggles for power and wealth, built off the backs of others. So we are happy here, away from all that."

They walked a while more; Clark did have a lot of questions, and Boudicaa shared more about her sisters' unique history; however Boudicaa asked the most questions, about Clark's alien heritage, how he came to Earth and his life there. She seemed genuinely curious, he thought. She asked intelligent questions, and he felt himself relaxing more and more in her company. She was such a welcome change from Hippolyta!

Finally, they made a complete circuit of the Great Hall. Boudicaa paused, and grasped Clark's hands warmly.

"Thank you for being so generous in answering my questions, Kal-el. I'm sure you must have been asked the same ones so often!"

"No, I'm happy to. Thank you for being so considerate." Clark hesitated. "Forgive me if I sound rude, but...why are you?"

Boudicaa smiled disarmingly at him. "I must admit that when I first heard of you, I did not have the most kind thoughts. I know that you have had a difficult time here. I believe you must truly love the Princess, to endure what you have. No Roman would ever have put up with it. Maybe that is why."

"I _do_ love her. I'm just afraid I can't convince Hippolyta of that."

"Oh, she is a mother bear, isn't she?" Another amused laugh. "She is the most stubborn woman I know!"

"If only there was something I could do to change her attitude..."

"Yes, that might take some doing. You know, of course, that Hippolyta has ordered your death." Boudicaa added matter-of-factly.

Clark froze and stared at the Getai Queen in shock. Some part of him wasn't surprised at all, only at the bluntness of it. He suddenly felt as if he'd blundered into a trap, long suspected. He tensed, wondering if this was a trap, and Boudicaa noticed his agitation. She shrugged.

"Or, rather, she suggested it. She does not give me orders, as such. Her _suggestion_ was that if you stepped out of line in any way, I was to use extreme measures to deal with you as I saw fit. Of course, there are lots of ways to step out of line here. " Boudicaa fixed her eyes directly on Clark's. "We have our own Sacred Armory. The Spear of Scathach, which you undoubtedly saw in action, came from there."

When he spoke again Clark found his throat was dry. "So why haven't you killed me anyway?"

"Oh, I think you'd might be a little harder to kill than Hippolyta thinks! And, as I said, I wasn't born hating men. I was married, too, once. Happily at that. I think, also, it is because you reminded me of my husband, Prasutagas. He was a good man. Weak, when it came to dealing with the Romans, but a good man despite that. He tried his best. A good man is a rare thing, indeed. I wouldn't want to deprive the Princess of such rarity."

Boudicaa clapped him on the arm, again in a disarming manner. Totally fearless.

"Do not worry Kal-el, you needn't fear a sword in the back from us, even a magicked one! Rest here tonight - I'll see to it no one slips into your bedchamber uninvited, I know some will try! - and tomorrow morning we shall escort you back to Dierdre's house."

"Wait - I don't understand!" Clark insisted. "Why did you tell me all that about Hippolyta?"

Boudicaa stared at him as if that should be obvious.

"I want you to fight her."

She grinned again and in the flickering glow of the torchlight Clark thought he glimpsed the historical Boudicaa, the one who had ruthlessly slaughtered fifty thousand men, women, and children when she took the city which would one day be known as London, after that day when the Roman soldiers had come and whipped her, and dragged her daughters out to be raped.

"You see, I know that what she fears most. That is for what befell her - and me - to happen to Diana. Oh, yes indeed, Hippolyta fears it, even though Diana is a demigoddess. Fear is a dreadful thing, Kal-el. Once, every day of my life, I lived with it, breathed it. Even at the height of my victory, when I slew my violators with my own hand and shoved their own entrails down their still-breathing throats, I still felt it. Only on Themyscira, have I not known any fear. I still do not. But that is what you have brought to this island, even though it was not your intention. Hippolyta and many of her sisters confuse this fear with strength. They think it makes them strong, resolute and invulnerable."

"No, I am not going to fight her," Clark said angrily. He didn't relish being pulled into some sort of factitious war between the Amazons. "I would rather just leave Themyscira altogether!" Clark now felt that perhaps that would not be such a bad idea. He would return to the Capital, tell Diana to pack and they would both get the hell of of Dodge...so to speak.

"You misunderstand me, Kal-el. Only cowards flee a battle and I suspect you are no coward. You must fight even though it does seem like your chances of victory are rather slim."

"I...don't understand you. You've seen only a little bit of my powers. If I fought Hippolyta and her Amazons like that..."

"Who said anything about your powers, you thick man?" Boudicaa laughed again, and her frightful look was gone. "How does one fight fear?"

Clark stood there, puzzled.

"You must fight them with love." Boudicaa replied.

"Now...I really don't understand."

Boudicaa explained gently. "It is fear that keeps the Amazons here on Themyscira, isolated. It is what drives us to do...terrible things. Fear is our real enemy, not men. Tell me, Kal-el, haven't you ever wondered why there are no male Amazon children here?"

Clark stood still, barely thinking to breath.

"I know you have. I know the Princess is with child by you. If you haven't you ought to, for both of your sakes."

"Will you tell me?" Clark's own voice sounded foreign to him. "Does...does Diana know?"

But Boudicaa only gave him another smile. "That would be a violation of the oath I swore to Hippolyta, with all of my sisters. As for the Princess, I certainly cannot presume to know her mind. Yet...I think you will find out in your own way. You also seem to be an intelligent man, even though I do confess to the stereotype that most men aren't!"

She pulled on his arm. "Come. We have talked enough for the night. You must be tired, even though you are a super-man. I will show you your quarters. We will talk more in the morning."

Again, Clark let himself be led off by Boudicaa to an adjacent building, only slightly smaller than the Great Hall. Boudicaa completely changed the subject of her talk from then on, only referring briskly to the architecture of the Getai, and he knew it would be fruitless to try to talk to her again about it, even though his mind was spinning. She showed him a spacious room in the other Hall, which had the most luxurious bed he had seen since leaving the Capital.

"Good night, Kal-el, and remember to bar the door behind me! Otherwise you may have some uninvited guests!"

Boudicaa was correct in that. Not long after she left, there was occasional hammering on his door, a few Getai straggling over from the Great Hall and insisting, in their drunken Northern Themysciran dialect, to continue the party in his room.

But Clark lay on his bed completely still; he barely heard them at all, so filled was he with conflicting thoughts and emotions, thinking about what Boudicaa had said about war, and love, and finally the Getai left him alone. Peace, however, was not quite easy for him yet.

* * *

_The Palace of Themyscira - Three Months Later_

_The sounds of distant screams echoed throughout the ancient city and pursued Diana as she ran wildly through the burning streets. Darkness, lit only by the lurid flames of the burning city, surrounded her. She was nearly naked, her clothes in all but torn remnants, her armor streaked and smeared with blood and gore, but who's, she didn't know. She couldn't remember..._

_She paused in her flight, gasping and looked around with maddened eyes. She felt disoriented, unsure of exactly where she was. She couldn't tell if she was in Themyscira, or Metropolis. She couldn't recognize any familiar sights. She only knew that something terrible had happened here. Some awful retribution had taken place, leaving thousands, perhaps millions, dead. She glimpsed charred bodies like shadows dangling from the strangely angled buildings, they were everywhere, but they eluded her full view somehow._

_She had to keep running; she held her xiphos in a death's grip in her right hand. She had the fleeting impression something was approaching, drawing nearer and nearer, something unutterable...but for some reason, she would not - _could_ not - turn and fight. She resumed her flight through the howling wastes of the ravaged city, the fires giving off a strangely sickening, hot yellow light, like the rays of a dying sun or suns..._

_The temple! That was where she had to go. She didn't know how she knew it only that she had to get there. The people she loved would be there. They needed her to defend them._

_There it was ahead of her, a great building, but like no temple that ever existed on Themyscira. Even so, she knew it for what it was and ran towards it, into it. The horrid yellow light dimmed and faded behind her as she looked around her new surroundings. It was very dark and quiet, but there was enough light - normal light - remaining for her to see a group of people at the far end, standing still, as if awaiting her._

_Slowly, Diana walked forward, hearing the sound of only her footfalls. As she came nearer, she saw that the people were Amazons, her sisters...but they made no cry of greeting. They stood as still as marble statues, their helmets pulled down like death-masks over their faces._

_Then she saw what they were surrounding: an X-shaped scaffold, upon which hung a man, pinioned upon it like an exhibit in a science lab...or an executed prisoner._

_"What is this?" Diana heard herself shout. "What is this?"_

_"The monster that has brought destruction down upon us, now we have done so for him. We are avenged."_

_The voice was from one of her unnamed sisters, but the voice was ghostly, unreal. Diana looked closer at the crucified body and she froze, her blood turning to ice._

_The dead, or dying man, was wearing a Kryptonian armored suit, upon which was the serpentine 'S' crest - her husband's crest!_

_"NO!" Diana heard the cry wrung from her throat. "This is wrong!" She rushed forward to the X-shaped scaffold, the sword falling from her hand. This could not be happening!_

_Clark's head was hanging in his chest, so that she couldn't see his face. She now saw that blood streaked his black hair, dripped onto his cut and torn chest._

_She cradled his head, shocked. She glared at her sisters. She screamed._

_"WHO HAS DONE THIS!?" _

_"You have, sister."_

_"You have avenged us, sister."_

_"And all is well."_

_"The King is well pleased."_

_"The King..."_

_"The King...He comes..."_

_Their voices melded into each other, losing coherence, becoming a meaningless babble. Diana, overwhelmed with grief and confusion, lifted her husband's head. _

_"Clark..." She whimpered. "No..."_

_But Clark heard her...he raised his head and Diana saw his glowing red eyes, which bored into hers; his cavernous black mouth opened, opened larger until she felt she must be swallowed whole, she was falling, falling into that whirling empty darkness...in horror she tried to pull away, this was NOT her husband, but she couldn't..._

_NO!_

Diana awoke with a scream in her throat, her hand instinctively groping for her _xiphos_, but it wasn't nearby; she had a brief moment of panic, then she understood it was because she was still lying in bed, alone, in her room in the Palace. A dream, only a dream. Her heart racing, she willed for herself to be calm. Only a dream.

"My Lady?"

Startled, she turned to see Selene standing at the doorway of her bedchamber.

"I heard you crying out. Did you have a bad dream?"

Diana nodded, still trying to collect herself.

"Yes. I…I think so. It…" Suddenly, Diana didn't want to tell her what what she'd dreamed. Already the memory of it was fading. Just a bad dream.

"It was nothing. Just my hormones acting up, I suppose."

Selene's brow furrowed thoughtfully. She well-knew the Princess would never admit to any vulnerability, even if it occurred in a dream.

"You should go consult the Sybil," She gravely urged. "She can interpret the dream for you."

Diana knew that was thir traditional way of understanding dreams, but after her time in Man's World, she had found herself doubting how effective old Menalippe would be. Also…she wasn't quite sure she wanted to know the meaning of her dream.

"I...will consider it."

"Does my lady wish to dress now?"

"Yes. I'll go out today. Where is my mother?"

"The Queen has gone riding with Adeze and Kwaian. She is not expected back for several hours."

_Good_, Diana thought. Her mother had become increasingly more fussing, if that was possible, now that her pregnancy was well into the fifth month.

"Then I think I will go to the arena today."

"Yes, my Lady. My Lady should know that the visitors from Man's World are practicing there today."

Diana nodded, forced herself to smile to show everything was fine. "Excellent. I'll join them."

After Selene left, with a deep sigh Diana swung her legs over the side of the bed, wondering what had brought on the strange dream. Perhaps it was only something she ate the night before. She didn't want to admit to any deeper meaning with that. Then, she thought about how Clark was faring. Through the Amazon "grapevine" she knew he was at Dierdre's school. The thought of him with that old harridan made her shudder.

She placed a hand on the swollen flesh of her stomach. She could feel the life within, which filled her with a joy she could barely comprehend. The nausea and seesawing mood swings were mostly gone, for which she was grateful, but in its place had come apprehension, as well. She was starting to think ahead of the time of the birth itself, and what that would be like. She pined for Clark's presence, wishing more than ever that he was here by her side. That was probably why she was having bad dreams!

As if in response, she felt the baby kick, or something like a kick. Her hand tightened on her belly.

"Peace, little one," Diana whispered. "All will be well." _I certainly hope so._

When Diana arrived at the arena she found General Philippus already there, watching the visitors practice.

"My Princess," the old general greeted her.

As she raised her head, Diana saw her glance at her belly and a look of tender compassion flood her eyes; it was the way Philippus used to look at her when she was a little girl. The old black woman was the closest thing Diana had ever had to an aunt or another close relative (her hordes of demigod half-brothers and sisters didn't count). It brought back a flood of childhood memories. She desperately wanted Philippus to understand why she had chosen to marry Clark and to give her her blessing for this new life.

Instead she asked. "How is the training going?"

"Excellently, Princess. Since they have decided to stay on in preparation for the Iron Rite, they are doing better than I thought they could."

Indeed, Diana saw that the Lois Lane she knew from the _Daily Planet_ days had virtually disappeared. In her place was a highly fit warrior woman, who was wielding the _xiphos_ expertly as if she was born to it. Diana thought she and the other visitors looked no different from any other Amazon on the island (well, maybe if one squinted). Lois looked supremely confident, practically glowed with it, and Diana wondered if this would make her even more arrogant to her journalist colleagues, particularly Clark.

"You do not approve?" Philippus had noticed her scowl.

"I do approve, Philippus, but I wonder if admitting them to the Iron Rite will be a bit...much for them."

"They wanted to know what it is like to be Amazons, particularly that Lois. Besides, it was the only way your mother got Lois to behave!"

"She hasn't been asking about Clark again?" Diana asked worriedly.

Now it was the old general's turn to scowl.

"No, but I have heard that Lois has been asking certain...questions, now that they can move freely about the city. She clearly does not believe your story. It was a wise move of Hippolyta's to have that man moved to the North."

"Philippus…I know you do not approve of my relationship with Kal, but he truly is a good person. I would not give my heart to anyone who I had the least suspicion about. If he ever did anything to hurt me, or my sisters. You know that."

A moment's silence; the only noise came from the practice weapons (real ones now, not wooden replicas) that the visitors used.

"Aye, I know you would not, child."

Philippus said nothing after that. Diana contented herself with watching their guests. Yes, Lois was certainly a natural with the sword, who would have guessed it? Which was a surprise considering the others had some military or martial arts experience and she hadn't...

"They stripped us naked!" Phillipus blurted out suddenly, stunning Diana. "Then, they dragged us to the agora and exhibited us like animals, at the point of their spears! Your mother and I were singled out by Herakles and forced to pleasure him in front of his men."

"Phillipus," Diana's voice was thick, her face growing pale. "I know this, remember…"

"You say you _know_, but you can never really know what it was like! When it was done...Herakles threatened to give us to all his men for their sport, myself and your mother. It would have killed her, even then she was barely conscious. Gorgo offered herself in place of the Queen. What they did to her…it was because of what they did, that she could never have children."

"Gorgo was like a second mother to me," Diana's voice shook. Why had Philippus brought this up, now, here? "You too. But we can't live in the past, Philippus! You taught me that yourself! We can't hold onto past crimes-"

"Forgive and forget?" Philippus sneered. "Hah! To forgive _is_ to forget, and to set the stage for it to be repeated. I do not need to look at your mother's ridiculous toy to know how women are still treated in Man's World."

"Things have changed," Diana protested. "No, not everywhere in the world, it is true but there are many changes for the better. It is not like the past."

"Is that so?" Philippus gestured to the women exercising in the arena. "That one, Maggie, I know from her bio that was assaulted by a fellow soldier. When she reported it, she was the one who was punished. Shaniqua was abandoned by her birth father. I see little change."

"I never claimed that Man's World is perfect. But it is capable of change. Look at those same women! They are not defeated by their experiences, they have survived. They are strong women, like us."

"Aye, they are strong, but they will always be in danger. Here, there is no danger. Diana," Philippus gently grasped her hands. "I beg of you, my Princess, return to your sisters. It is not too late."

_Not too late for...what? _

"You want me to be a child again," This was the same argument, thought Diana, when she had fought to be allowed to go to Man's World with Steve. "You know that cannot be."

"For the sake of your child, then!" Philippus implored. "As your friend, and also as your Master of Horse, I must speak my mind. Your man will betray you. Maybe not tomorrow, or a year's time, but he will. It is his nature to be warlike and always seeking conquest, on more than just the battlefield. To see you hurt such would devastate me and your dear mother."

Dear Hera and Athena in Olympus, would this never cease? In another moment, Philippus would say, _we only want what's best for you. _

Gently, but firmly, Diana pulled her hands free of Philippus' grasp.

"No, Philippus you are wrong. But even if you are not...it may even be as you say. Let this be my battle, then, Philippus. I will fight it myself. On _my_ terms. not my mother's. Or yours," Diana fixed her with a firm, cold stare. "Clark is my husband and _nothing will change that_. Do you understand?"_  
_

A veil came down over the old warrior's eyes, and then she was the formal retainer again.

"I...understand, Princess. I will speak no more of it, then."

Diana nodded. She wanted to say more, but Philippus had put on the mask of subservience again, and she knew then that perhaps something had been severed irreparably between them. It pained Diana, but she could wear that same mask, one of royalty, equally well. Nothing on her expression showed her unhappiness. They resumed watching the visitors practice, Princess and subject, until Philippus had to attend some meetings on repairs of the cliff fortifications. She made a perfunctory bow and left her alone.

Diana stood alone for a moment, thinking. A thought had come into her mind, and with that thought, she knew what plan of action she had to take.

Later, that evening, in the space between the changing of the night and morning watches, a cloaked and hooded figure slipped out of the Palace, unseen by the preoccupied Guardswomen; she flitted stealthily through the corridors, down to the Royal Stables. Soon, a single horsewoman rode out of the city, heading towards the north.

**[AN: As always, thanks for reading and please review! Next chapter up, more Lois and her efforts to get the 'real' story on the Amazons, which will lead her to trouble (what else)?]**


	29. Interlude II

**[We're due for another Interlude while I work out Lois' snooping activities on Themyscira! Hopefully this might give a glimpse of things to come! Amanda Waller and Dr. Fenderbrake are played respectively by Angela Basset and Udo Kier! Can you guess who the "Sleeping God" is?]**

**Interlude II**

In a conference room hundreds of feet below the desert floor, its precise location unknown to the CIA, MI5, or the heads of State of the most advanced nations of the world, Amanda Waller and Dr. Fenderbrake watched a large flatscreen TV that was displaying a news conference. The red-clad superhero known everywhere as the Flash was taking questions from the press demanding to know the reasons for the recent and unexplained absence of the Justice League. To the only two observers in the room, they both had the unspoken thought that Flash, who was supposed to have the ability to doing anything at the speed of light including thinking, looked somewhat flustered at the questions being thrown at him from the assembled reporters.

"Flash, why hasn't Superman been seen in months?"

"Or Wonder Woman?"

"Has anything happened to them? Are they dead?"

"Flash, there's been rumors that Superman and Wonder Woman are an 'item.' Can you confirm this?"

"Are they on their honeymoon? Can you tell us where? Can you give us the name of the hotel they are staying at?"

"And where's the Batman?"

"Did he go with them?"

Flash raised his red-gloved hands, as if trying to ward them off. "I can assure you that both Superman and Wonder Woman are fine, they're just currently on a research sabbatical right now. I really can't comment on their personal lives…"

"Can you tell us where they are?"

"No, they both ask that you respect their privacy…"

"Then you are confirming they are together?"

"No, I mean…I can't say they are together in that sense…"

"Flash, Batman hasn't been seen in Gotham City for months, and crime has increased by 20% in his absence. Is he on this 'sabbatical' too? Are you saying that Wonder Woman and Batman are an 'item' instead of her and Superman?'"

"No! There are no 'items!' Look, the Justice League understands your concerns. We are working to increase our members to help…"

"Then this means that Superman, Batman, and Wonder Woman were ousted from the Justice League? Are they going to set up a rival organization of metahumans?"

"Flash, what drove them from the League? Was it a love triangle?"

Amanda Waller switched the broadcast off, grimacing in disgust.

"You would think that the Justice League would know enough by now to engage a trained PR person for these things." Dr. Fenderbrake remarked drily.

"I'm more concerned with the fact that the whereabouts of three of their major members is essentially unknown," Waller replied testily. "I don't like it."

"Perhaps if things go on as they are, we won't have a Justice League to worry about," Fenderbrake added. "Perhaps they will all go on this so-called 'sabbatical."

Waller snorted derisively. "A sabbatical, what nonsense! Something is up."

"You are most concerned about Superman and Wonder Woman."

It was not a question. The gray-haired physician knew that his superior was gravely concerned about the possibility that these two powerful beings did indeed start an intimate relationship…and what might emerge from that relationship and its implications for the human race.

The African-American woman nodded. "They are the two most dangerous beings on the planet. We've been lax in not monitoring them more closely."

"Since they have not been seen in any other parts of the world, there are only three possibilities as to their location. Either they are at the Fortress of Solitude…."

"Which we also have failed to find, despite our most advanced drones." Waller clenched her fist in impotent anger.

"Or off planet. This is possible but unlikely, given that Wonder Woman is not an extraterrestial."

"And the third possibility?"

"That they are both are in Wonder Woman's home, the island of Themyscira."

Waller thought a moment. "Let's say they are in either Superman's hideout or Themyscira. Why would they be there for so long, out of sight?"

"I believe you have guessed the most likely reason, as I have. They've begun to have offspring."

Waller had; she just wanted confirmation from another source. "Then what we've feared has finally come to pass."

Dr. Fenderbrake adjusted his white lab coat. "The question that faces us now is, what shall we do? I assume you already have a contingency plan for this event?"

Waller nodded. "We must waste no time. I will brief the CoC immediately, although without hard 'proof' that useless politician will continue to dither as usual. In the meantime we must put our plan into effect."

Dr. Fenderbrake nodded curtly, but before he could go Waller added,

"One more thing, Doc: I want you to find Steve Trevor. We need him. We can make it an official military recall if necessary, but I would prefer not, given that it would involve too many other fingers in the pie."

Fenderbrake looked surprised, and slightly irritated. "For what purpose?"

"Dammit, isn't it obvious? He's been to Themyscira, and I don't buy that he doesn't know the way back, despite his prior denials. We need his assistance."

"He's declined to help us before. What makes you think he will now?"

"Superman is clearly Wonder Woman's lover. It was partly due to him that his relationship to her - and his military career - collapsed. We'll play on his natural jealousies and his resentments. He will help us, if only for the petty reasons of revenge...which we can offer him the opportunity for. It's been my experience that most of these old military career men are ultra-sensitive to any slight to their ego like that. Besides, I've been informed he's fallen on hard times. Apparently he's crashing a sofa with his sister up north, living off his pension and working in some community theater as a janitor." The tone of her voice suggested she felt mixed contempt and pity at Trevor's situation.

"We'll offer him a substantial financial package as well. If appeals to his pride don't work, then money will."

He nodded."I will make all the necessary arrangements."

Waller picked up her cell phone, her cue for him to be on his way.

Dr. Fenderbrake exited the bunker, emerging into the bright orange sunlight of a late afternoon in the Mojave Desert; the structures around him resembled the facilities of a new solar-energy project, which was the cover for the activities underground. He got into his car, a nondescript late-model Toyota (there were millions like it) and drove off towards his home, located in one of the better populated subdivisions near the Marine Corps Logistics Base in Barstow, California. His modest house was, like his car, one of many like it for miles around. Nothing unusual about that, either.

He thought about Amanda Waller's plans and then about Steve Trevor. He had never met the man personally, but he knew someone who had. He entered his home office, a place not even the Mexican maid he'd hired to clean once a week ever entered. He entered in a Skype request, and waited. He didn't have to wait long. Soon his old friend appeared on his computer screen.

"Doc!" Robardin smiled at the computer screen. He appeared to be in the den of his home; Fenderbrake could see the framed certificates and plaques on the walls testifying to his longtime military service. "Long time no see. What's the occasion?"

"Waller's on the warpath," Fenderbrake said. "She wants to see Steve Trevor."

"That might be difficult right now," Robardin replied. "We're about to put on the final production of our play."

Fenderbrake's eyes narrowed. "The French play?"

"What else? We've run through a few preliminary productions. Soon we will offer the premiere."

"You've involved Trevor in this?"

"Of course. He is to wear the Pallid Mask."

Fenderbrake leaned back in his high-backed leather chair, steepling his fingers under his chin and said nothing. Robardin knew from their years' long association that this body language meant that he was quite concerned. The old Special Operations soldier laughed.

"You don't agree with my casting choice?"

"Why did Trevor agree to this? Does he know?"

"He knows who he was, and what he has become. Remember our days at the VA Hospice? He knows he has the chance to become so much more than some old geezer rambling on over half-remembered war stories at the VFW bar."

"You told him about Delta Green?"

"Only the bare bones. He was...intrigued," Robardin gave Fenderbrake a knowing look. "What did you tell Waller?"

"Nothing. She still thinks Justice League of America is a go."

Robardin sneered. "Did you see the press conference with that Flash idiot?"

"That's where I just came from, with Waller."

"There is no better time to reveal this magnificent drama to the world. Don't you feel it, Doc? The ennui, the decay in our society. These fools have no more business running the world than the schizophrenic hordes on the streets!"

Fenderbrake ignored his rant. "Waller thinks Superman and Wonder Woman are on Themyscira. She wants Trevor to lead her there. That's why she wants him back at A.R.G.U.S."

"Ah...Themyscira. Yes. That could be the thing, it is ideal! The new place for Carcosa. The Queen will return to her rightful place in the world."

"So, that is your intention," Fenderbrake leaned forward, and his voice lowered, slightly menacingly. "This world belongs to the Sleeping God. It always has, and it always will. It is His Will for us to hold it for him."

Robardin only laughed dismissively, as if he'd been told an amusing _bon mot_. "You still hold onto that! The Sleeping God is indisposed and is likely to remain so for tens upon tens of more millennia. No, the Sleeping God will not rise anytime soon, whatever you might wish. But now, now conditions are ripe for the King."

For the first time, Fenderbrake looked slightly alarmed.

"The _Magnum Innominandum_? You would-?"

"Yes. I would, and I will. You are welcome to tell Ms. Waller she is welcome to attend the premier of our play. It will be held in a few weeks' time. You too, old friend."

"What of Trevor?"

Robardin smiled, a death's head look. "Ah yes, Trevor. I will let him know Ms. Waller will be expecting him. I'm sure he will enjoy remaking their acquaintance."

With that, the Skype connection cut off. Fenderbrake sat back again and thought a moment. He knew where his allegiance lay, and it was not with the Pallid Mask. It was time to clue in Waller as to recent developments. Who knew, perhaps this would work to all their advantage, in some way. In either case, it would be the Justice League on whom the fallout would descend.


	30. Chapter 22 - A Little Snooping

**[AN: This is a Lois-centric chapter so Lois haters beware!]**

**Chapter 22 – A Little Snooping Goes A Long Way**

On the dusty hard ground of the practice arena, Lois Lane faced her opponent in a fighting stance, a semi-crouch with her arms out in front of her, elbows bent like a boxer's. She was wearing the basic Amazon fighting girdle, which consisted of a pleated armored skirt and a tough leather brassiere studded with metal rivets, with the corded _wale_ acting as a lumbar belt wrapped around her waist. She wore sandals, and greaves protected her shins. In her right hand was the Greek-style sword, the _xiphos_.

Her opponent, Maggie Rodriguez, was dressed identically, but she wielded the slashing _kopis_ sword. Both wore intense expressions as they looked for an opening. For silent seconds they watched each other warily, shifting the weight on the balls of their feet. The other guests on the island, Alicia Yu and Shaniqua Garvey, watched them from outside the arena, along with their Amazon trainers.

Maggie made the first move, aiming her sword at Lois' chest. She was fast but Lois was faster; she parried it and followed up with rapid counter strikes that drove the lithe Latina backwards. Finding herself on the defensive, Maggie tried a leg sweep, which successfully tripped up Lois and elicited an excited gasp from the onlookers as she fell to her knees.

But Lois recovered quickly. She rolled away from Maggie's downward strike, the flashing blade narrowly missing her head. Leaping back to her feet she countered with a flying elbow to her opponent's ribs; gasping, Maggie stumbled backwards then went reeling as Lois followed up with a strong left hook to her face.

Lois grinned. Only a few weeks ago, Maggie was the one kicking _her_ ass! And rubbing it in, too! Now the tables were turned, and how good it felt! Now it was victory time!

Out of the corner of her eye, Lois noticed General Philippus watching at the far end of the arena. She was the head of their training program, but other than a few terse remarks and instructions on proper fighting techniques, she'd hardly taken the time to address their group. Lois thought she seemed a rather reserved and distant woman. She wasn't distinctly unfriendly, but not very approachable either. In a way Philippus reminded Lois of her father, a dedicated career military person who preferred to avoid attention – and the press – whenever possible.

Then, Lois saw another person join Philippus at the railing – it was Wonder Woman! There was something about her appearance, yes, there was no doubt about it… she was clearly pregnant! Lois had heard the rumors, but here was the confirmation! What a scoop this would make…!

Something flashed in front of her, and Lois turned just in time to dodge out of the way of Maggie's _kopis_, but she wasn't quick enough to avoid Maggie's reverse strike, and the butt-end of the sword smacked her in the back, sending her tumbling to the ground in pain.

"Ow!" Lois shouted.

A ripple of applause came from the watchers. Maggie stood over Lois, resheathing her _kopis_.

"Dang girl, I almost took your head off!"

"I got distracted," Lois grumbled, but she accepted Maggie's outstretched hand to help pull her back on her feet. "I was doing fine until then."

"Well, you need to stop doing that! What were you looking at?"

Lois nodded her head where Philippus and Wonder Woman stood. The two Amazons were talking together, oblivious of what was happening in the arena.

"Oh my God, are you still thinking about your article?" Maggie shook her head. "Give it up!"

Alicia and Shaniqua joined them as their Amazon trainers compared notes for the next round.

"Hey, is that Wonder Woman?" Shaniqua said. "Looks like she got herself a lil' bun in the oven! That's probably why we've hardly seen her since we been here."

Alicia said. "Didn't you interview her once for the _Daily Planet_?"

"Yes, I know her, she's a friend! Hey! Wonder Woman!" Lois jumped and waved her arm, excitedly.

But the Amazon Princess didn't seem to hear her, when Philippus left. She looked distracted and deep in thought as she walked away, oblivious to Lois' hails.

The small Chinese-American woman smirked. "I guess she didn't care for your writing!"

Lois lowered her arm slowly. "No…that's not it. She looked upset."

"Isn't that what usually happens to the people you write about?"

She ignored her comment. "I wonder what she was talking to Philippus about?"

Alicia shrugged. The Amazon trainers called them back for the next round, where Alicia would be paired up with Maggie, giving Lois time to rest, and think about what she had just witnessed.

Later that night after training, the girls returned to their barracks together. In the months they had been on Themyscira, they had grown into a little team and getting to know one another well. Lois knew she could add a human dimension to her article with their stories, which would go over well for the ordinary "Woman on Main Street" angle.

Their barracks also had transformed from a plain stone shelter to one with some homey touches, as they were allowed to decorate it how they wanted. They actually had softer pallets to sleep on, with blanket and pillows. Shaniqua put up pictures of her five-year-old daughter, which she had been allowed to bring, on the wall, and the others added little flowers or colorful seashells to brighten up the place. They still cooked their meals there, and Alicia turned out to be the chef of the group, creating hearty meals out of seemingly few ingredients, a talent she had picked up on overseas deployments. The night marches were a thing of the past now, and they could spend their evenings relaxing.

Tonight, though, Lois wasn't in much of a mood to relax or even eat.

"Are you still thinking of Wonder Woman?" Maggie couldn't help but roll her eyes. Always that woman with her headlines!

Lois was pacing back and forth, deep in contemplation. "Who could possibly be the father?"

"Well, it's gotta be someone from the Justice League!" Maggie said, in a mood to gossip. "My bet is that it's…"

"Wasn't she an item with Steve Trevor?" Shaniqua interjected.

"Nah, they broke up way before that, I read that in _Daily World_. My bet is that it's Batman!"

"Eww," Alicia Yu crinkled up her nose as she stirred the soup in her cooking pot. "I don't think he's attractive at all. He looks like a thug to me! All scary in black…"

"Well, _I_ think…"

"Of course!" Lois suddenly shouted, freezing in place. "How couldn't I have seen it before?"

They all stared at her. "What are you talking about, Lois?" Shaniqua asked.

"It's Superman!"

She stared at the other women "It has to be, I'm sure of it!"

"Well, how can you be?"

"Clark Kent!" Lois announced triumphantly. "That's how I know!"

"What?"

Lois explained about the first time she sparred with Wonder Woman, how she caught a glimpse of a big, bearded man at the outskirts of the arena before she was knocked out by the Amazon superhero.

"It was Clark Kent, my old colleague from the _Daily Planet_. Even with the funky beard, I knew it was him."

"What?" All of them were surprised. "You didn't say anything about this before."

"When I came to, Wonder Woman told me I hallucinated the whole thing. I pretended to believe her. I had the feeling she was trying to hide something. Now, this explains everything. Why else would Clark be here?"

Maggie still looked confused. "I still don't get it."

"Kent," Alicia suddenly remembered. "Yeah, I remember that name. He wrote all those articles about Superman for your old paper, right?"

"Yes! He must have found out, he got the first scoop that Superman and Wonder Woman were an item, and somehow he followed them here to get the full story!" Lois slammed her fist into her palm. "I _knew_ I saw him!"

The other women exchanged puzzled looks. This was getting weird. "Well, where is he now?" Alicia asked.

"I…don't know," Lois admitted. "But I've got to find him."

"If the Amazons haven't killed him," Shaniqua said slowly. "I haven't seen any men here! Do you think he's still alive?"

For the first time, Lois looked troubled and uncertain. "I hope so. She knows him. I can't believe Wonder Woman would kill Clark, or allow him come to harm, if she could prevent it. Maybe he's in a dungeon, somewhere."

"Unless Queen Hippolyta ordered it," Alicia added ominously. "You _know_ that lady would do it, at the drop of a hat!"

"That's what I'm worried about," Lois said. "I've got a hunch that there are a lot of things going on they're keeping from us. Wonder Woman's pregnancy being one of them. Have you noticed none of the Amazons ever talks about it? Why wouldn't they? It's like Wonder Woman herself is some kind of state secret!"

"Well we haven't passed the Iron Rite yet," Maggie pointed out. "Which was your idea for us to do!"

That was true. Although the group was only supposed to be here a few weeks, all of them had agreed to extend their training for several more months. It was all due to Lois.

Amynta, their chief trainer, had been introducing them to the use of the eight-foot spear, another traditional Amazon weapon. Lois remembered that the day had been hot, humid, and she was out of sorts because Hippolyta hadn't granted her her interview yet. She wasn't in the mood to wrestle with some heavy piece of wood. When they were given their practice spears, Lois had flipped hers on the ground disdainfully.

"What are you doing?" Maggie whispered worriedly.

"This is bullshit," Lois had snapped. "Why are we training with this outdated stuff? We have, you know, guns and tasers in 'Man's World' right?" She made air quotes with her hands.

"This is part of your training!" Amynta snapped. "Pick it up!"

"No!" Lois snapped back. "I'm on strike until I can talk to your Queen!" With that, Lois had plopped herself on the sand, ignoring the alarmed looks of her companions and the glowers of the Amazons.

"I'm not doing any more of this gladiator stuff until I get my interview!"

Finally, Amynta and another Amazon picked her up and dragged her to the Palace. Lois had fully expected to be tossed off the island, but at that point she hadn't cared. She missed Tyresa, and so far she had done nothing except to get sunburn, bruises, insect bites, and blisters.

Instead, they had taken her straight to Hippolyta, where she patiently listened to Lois vent.

"I'll make a bargain with you Lois," Queen Hippolyta had said smoothly, when Lois was done. "I shall give you your 'scoop' or whatever you call it. You will learn all that there is to learn about the Amazons, every last detail..."

"If?"

"If you undergo our most sacred ritual, the Iron Rite."

Lois was curious despite herself. "What is that?"

"Think of it as a rite of passage. No woman can become a true Amazon unless she undergoes this ordeal. Do not be alarmed, we do not do anything barbaric, like they do in Man's World! No Amazon will hurt you. It is very powerful though...mentally, you might say. Since you have already shown you have the capacity to endure hardship, this will hardly be another hurdle for you. Once you undergo the Iron Rite, you will be a full Amazon. You will be granted the right to wear these bracelets."

Vanessa Kapatelis had been there. Lois glanced at her. Vanessa raised her arms, the bracers on her wrists. She nodded and mouthed, _Go for it!_

Lois' mind had whirled through the possibilities. True, she had only planned to be gone a few weeks, to get her article material. But here now, what was being offered to her, hell, _fuck_ the Pulitzer!

There was a _book deal_ here!

"I'll do it," Lois had agreed, but she added. "But I would like you to offer the same deal to my friends, if they want to do it."

Queen Hippolyta nodded and smiled, as if this was what she had planned all along. "Of course."

The other women, who all craved challenges and opportunities to push themselves to the highest limit, had also agreed to do it with her. Since that time, the Amazons appeared to treat them with more grudging respect, even Amynta and her cronies, as if they'd passed some invisible test. Since then, the training, while still very hard, wasn't as punishing as it was before. They were even allowed to make some conversation with the Amazons (their language abilities were gradually improving), and they grew to learn a lot more, but for Lois, there was still something missing.

Princess Diana for one. They'd hardly seen her, although she was responsible for the exchange program. None of the Amazons would give an explanation as to why she rarely appeared, other than it was because of "palace business" (which Lois hadn't bought for a minute). Now they knew why. But for Lois, she had to know more.

"We still have a few weeks to go before the Iron Rite thing," Lois said. "You know what – I think I'm going to go for a walk."

One of their new privileges included the ability to move freely throughout the Capital (within reason of course), although the rest of Paradise Island would still be off limits to them until after the Iron Rite. The four of them had used the time as they would if they were tourists visiting a new country for the first time, going to the agora, the bazaars, and the temples. All of them had enjoyed their earned freedom immensely; even the usually jaded Lois was awestruck by what she saw.

When night fell, Lois slipped out from the barracks. Technically, they were all under a curfew, but no one kept guard over them now. Over her _chiton_ she wore a plain cloak she'd acquired in the bazaar; Lois hoped that in the dark, she'd be able to reasonably pass for an Amazon, if she kept her arms out of sight, and didn't talk too much. Even so, she'd noticed that the Amazons didn't wear their bracers all the time. She easily entered the city unnoticed.

It was a cool night, so the cloak wasn't too uncomfortable. Lois passed a few Amazons and was relieved when they didn't take any special notice of her. She saw several couples out walking together, clearly enjoying each other's company, and she wistfully thought of Tyresa. She hoped she wouldn't be too upset at her prolonged absence. Yet she also had to admit that Themyscira had its charms. The streets were clean, every place looked neat and well-kept, the inhabitants healthy-looking and there was obviously no crime. One could almost forget there were no men around. It was a kind of paradise, and Lois thought she could be quite happy living here (if Tyresa was with her), but she knew that there was an underside to everything, even paradise, that sometimes took some journalistic snooping to get to the uncomfortable truth.

She was sure that there was one here, even if she didn't want to find it.

Lois paused momentarily, wondering where she should go. The most inconspicuous place would be the bazaar, if she was noticed, she could easily claim she was looking for a few vegetables for the stewpot. Near the Palace was a large outdoor plaza, where the Amazons could sit and drink and eat. She decided to go there first.

At this time of night the plaza was not too crowded, but there was plenty of Amazons about. She got herself a mug of _yourte _(Lois still hated it but she thought it would make her fit in) and sat down by herself. She nursed it as she listened to the Amazons. Their conversations were mostly mundane, and Lois was starting to get bored, when she overheard something that made her sit up.

"Princess Diana has argued with her mother again," the voice said. "I believe that the two of them will never come to see eye-to-eye."

Surreptitiously, Lois glanced over and saw the speaker a tall blonde Amazon she knew as Illythia. She reminded Lois of one of the snooty sorority girls when she was at university. She tended to look down on the visitors, assuming that they were all stupid and wimpy women who couldn't say no to a man, which made Lois' blood boil. She was talking to another group of Amazons, whom Lois didn't recognize.

"Again, it was because of the man," Illythia was saying. "She is so taken with him she cannot bear to hear any criticism of him."

One of the other Amazons shook her head. "The Princess fighting with her mother is nothing new. She's always done that!"

"I can only imagine their fights now," another one said, shaking her head. "But I have not seen the man lately. What happened to him?"

"I hear he was exiled to the North," Illythia said, reminding Lois again of those gossipy bitches at school. "Because he was too tempted at being surrounded by so many women, apparently it was overwhelming for him and he had to be sent away to prevent any violations!"

"I am not surprised we are too tempting for him - the women of Man's World must truly be like dishrags!"

They all laughed together, making Lois squeeze her mug in anger.

"Actually, I heard that it was because the Queen does not want him around when the Princess's time comes," one of them whispered, making Lois strain to hear. "That he could cause...problems."

"Ah," Illythia replied knowingly. "You speak truly, Audata. I believe the Queen will reckon with this intruder in good time. He will pay for his indiscretion with the Princess. A shame though, he is so handsome!"

"Say truly, Illythia!" Another one said accusingly. "You wanted him for yourself!"

"I admit I did," the haughty Amazon replied cooly. "But I see clearly now that he is no hero, just some plaything of the Princess. Clearly he has a slave's nature. That's how she was able to control him. Why else would he obey her, Clay of all people?" Lois heard her voice edged with contempt at that name.

_Because he cares about her? _Lois found herself thinking, even though she herself had wondered why Superman had hooked up with Wonder Woman. She had to restrain herself from jumping up and throttling Illythia! But she had to know more. What did she mean by "reckon?"

"Clay's always been impetuous," another Amazon agreed. "Unfortunately, this time she fell pregnant because of it. Let us pray at least that she has a girl child."

"By Athena and Hera together, yes."

After some more talk, the group broke up, and Illythia headed towards the Palace. Discreetly, Lois followed, using her skills honed as an investigative reporter. The women of Men's World had some talents other than waving around swords! Being careful not to be detected, she followed the blonde Amazon towards the back of the Palace; Lois had never been here before. Illythia didn't seem to notice she was being followed. She seemed like she was heading towards a rendezvous. Finally, she entered a stone blockhouse, lit by a solitary lamp. Lois crept up to where she could hear, by the open entrance, and surreptitiously caught a glimpse of who Illythia was meeting with.

For some reason, Lois was not surprised to see Illythia together with Philippus. At first, she couldn't hear, but by crawling near the open window, she caught their conversation.

"What did the Princess say?"

"Diana will not give him up, she has taken leave of her senses," Philippus said gravely. "She insists on keeping the man. When her confinement arrives, if the child is a boy, that makes me fear she will not do her duty."

_Duty?_ Lois thought. _What did that mean?_

"If she will not do her duty by the Amazons," Illythia said frankly. "She has no right to claim to be our Princess."

"_If_ she forgets her duty," Philippus said carefully. "We must be the ones to help remind her. That is _our_ duty. Illythia, will you swear by Hecate to do yours?"

_What duty are they talking about?_ Lois wondered. But something inside her felt chilled to the bone.

"I do," the Amazon replied and Lois could hear the eagerness in her voice, a strange sound that made her shudder. "But of Kal-el? What if he returns?"

"Queen Hippolyta hopes that the Getai will keep that demon occupied and away from Diana. We needn't worry about him for the time being. He shall be dealt with in due course."

Lois nearly stopped breathing.

"Still," Illythia said. "Diana is a demi-goddess and her male spawn could possibly be just as strong…"

"Diana will be weak from the birth-travail, but even if she offers resistance, there may be...trouble, and that is why I need your arm by my side…as well as the tools from the Sacred Armory. They will be prepared beforehand."

"Will the Queen permit that?"

"She will allow anything that will remove the threat to our people and Island. You are my protégé, so you are now entrusted with this sacred duty. As the time grows nearer, we will speak of the…details. Until then, not a word must be spoken of this to anyone."

"I understand, my General."

Lois heard them ready to leave, and she ducked out of sight into the shadows and waited until she heard them depart, and then carefully crept away herself, returning to the barracks. Her mind was buzzing with what she had overheard. She had no doubt of it, it was clear – Superman was in some kind of danger, and so was his and Wonder Woman's child. Lois had also wondered why, although she had seen young Amazons, how they could have only girl children. The Amazons had only blown her questions off, saying they of course had only girl children, or that she would come to "know all" once she had undergone the Iron Rite. Lois didn't buy that there was some kind of power on the Island that could make you conceive only girl kids though...and how did they get impregnated anyway? That was another thing they never mentioned. Lois didn't think they had magical sperm banks hidden away in a cave.

Although she didn't know exactly what was to go down, it clearly wasn't good. She had to warn Superman, somehow. But how could she do that? She didn't know where he was, but she had to get to Wonder Woman somehow. Where had she gone? She also had no doubt that if the Amazons knew what she knew now, her own life might likely be in some peril.

And where was Clark?

**[Oh, the scheming goes on! Well, Lois does get her scoop, in a way, now what will she do with it? What can she do? Next chapter, Diana heads North and her reunion with Clark or guess where Batman is! As always, thanks for reading and please review!]**


	31. Chapter 23 - Reunion & Revelation

**[We're back with Clark & Diana, so lots of SMWW action in this chapter! Enjoy!]**

**Chapter 23 – Reunion and Revelation**

A solitary horsewoman rode through the high dry grasses of the steppe. A scarlet cloak was wrapped around her body, concealing her unique red-and-dark blue corselet and the golden lasso on her hip. The sunlight flashed off her tiara, making her easy to detect from far away, but as far as Diana could see, she was the only person for miles around.

That was exactly how she wanted it. It had been a long time since she'd gone on a solo journey on horseback, and in Man's World she'd hardly had the time for it anyway. However, she realized how much she missed it - it was truly said by the ancients that an Amazon was born to the saddle. As she sat astride her horse Grey Eyes, Diana breathed in deeply of the good air of Themyscira. Although she sometimes missed her London apartment, her favorite heavy-metal nightclubs, the shops, and her friends, she knew that this magical island would always be her true home.

Diana took another deep breath, this time imagining the fresh air passing into her womb and imbuing her unborn child with the same love of Themyscira as she had. The day was so beautiful and pleasant, it was easy to think that no danger could arise here, but Diana was well-aware that perils existed even on Paradise Island, whether in the form of rabid harpies or other wild animals, and so her hand drifted down to the _xiphos_ secured on her thigh band. But these were mundane threats; it was some other unknown, unnamed fear which made Diana confused and uneasy, even as she relaxed on her horse.

It was that same discomfiture that had compelled Diana to leave the Palace and head north to the lands of the Getai. She'd left a note for Selene – courtesy demanded that at least – only stating that she wanted to be alone to meditate for awhile. She knew that the shrewd warrior would guess where she had gone. Hopefully, Selene would delay telling her mother until she was well away!

Diana's free hand moved away from her sword to rest on the swell of her belly; she grinned broadly, her jitteriness dissipating as she thought of how happy Clark would be when he saw her. She imagined his reaction at their reunion, and she shivered in anticipation. Her husband was right - she should never have agreed to this separation. Now, she would make it up to him. She told herself that it was only his absence that caused her disquiet – surely it would be gone by the time she arrived north.

Then her mother's face, angry and displeased, swam before her but Diana irritably pushed it away. What could Hippolyta do about it? She was not a child anymore. She would just have to accept it.

Something cried high above her and Diana looked up. It was an eagle, its magnificent large wings spread wide to catch the wind. It was flying towards the north. This was a good omen!

"Yaahhhh!" Diana shouted, and spurred Grey Eyes into a gallop, and they rode off across the steppe, following the eagle.

* * *

Clark Kent stood up to his knees in muddy, brackish water at the edge of a swampy bog roughly half a mile from Dierdre's school. His hands were on his hips, and he looked deep in thought. He was considering draining the bog, with the eventual goal of reclaiming the land to make it suitable for growing crops. However, thanks to Jonathan Kent he knew that although he could change the course of mighty rivers, he shouldn't damage fragile ecosystems in the process. He had done that once as a kid, with a small stream near the farm, and his dad had made him put it back the way it was! He'd learned alot from Pa, not least of which was to have patience and not act impulsively.

Actually, the idea had been Dierdre's. She'd been complaining the other day (as usual) about the hassle of sending him into the nearest village for supplies. It was one of the tasks she'd assigned him, claiming she had "gout" and couldn't get around easily (although she seemed mobile enough follow him around whenever she needed find him to berate for some crime or another). He'd come to especially dislike that particular job since the fierce northern Amazons tended to either verbally abuse him or totally ignore his carefully worded and polite requests for foodstuffs.

"What else can we do, ye big oaf?" Dierdre had said when he'd complained. "We don't have any place to grow our own food, and like as not I'm too weak with the gout to be pulling a plow anyhows, _an_' I'm too busy with the bairns, and makin' sure ye're not up to mischief, and if ye can't do anything about my sisters, then put up with it!"

So much for that. But all that had changed after that wild Assembly he'd been "invited" to. Boudicaa was true to her word. The next morning she'd given Clark gifts: a handsome cloak of soft wolf's fur and a bag full of sweet buns for the children in Dierdre's school. She'd even given him his own horse, a gentle gelding who didn't try to nip him, unlike Diana's mare.

"And be sure to give this to Dierdre," Boudicaa gave him a box which contained a scroll and some intricately worked broaches. "It's just a little note thanking her for allowing your attendance at the Assembly, and stating that you are welcome anywhere in our lands," She winked at Clark. "She'll get the message."

Clark had thanked the Getai chieftain and rode off, trying not to laugh at the hungover Getai who watched him leave, glumly. It had been even harder to not look smug when he gave the scroll to a dumbfounded Dierdre. However, the little girls were genuinely happy to see him back, especially since he had a sackful of treats. As Boudicaa had intended, Dierdre relaxed in her behavior towards him, although she still put on a gruff act in front of the children. As for the girls, they'd been too shy or scared to speak to him initially but gradually they spoke to him more and more, and now they could without having to worry about Dierdre's switch on their backsides. The stout woman even relented enough to let him sit in on some of her classes, inviting him to talk about Man's World. Clark had been inspired by their positive curiosity, although Dierdre still grimly warned her pupils that as a man Kal was obviously biased towards Man's World. He could see that at least some of them really believed he was not some ogre out of a fairy story.

The local Getai had also changed their attitudes; they'd stopped riding out to goad Clark into a fight, but instead, whenever he rode into the village for supplies now, the Amazons wolf-whistled and called out lewd remarks, some so bad they would've made Hal Jordan blush. Now he could really sympathize with his female colleagues at the _Daily Planet_! So he was still confronted with the same problem.

Anyway, it would still be better if the school could become self-sufficient. This land was so fertile, it seemed a waste not to utilize it to feed people. Clark indulged briefly in another daydream of building his own farm and raising his own crops, and the dream of living peacefully here with his family, Diana and their children, away from violence and fighting...

"What are you thinking about, Kal?"

Clark turned around, seeing one of Dierdre's pupils behind him. The six-year-old's name was Kori, she was the girl who'd poked him with her stick his first morning here. Before, she would run and hide whenever he'd come into sight; now, she was full of questions for him.

"I'm thinking how I can turn this bog into farmland," Clark replied.

"Why?"

"So you and your sisters can grow your own food."

"I thought _you_ made all our food?"

Clark grinned. "No, I just delivered it in the wagon! See, this way you don't need to have somebody bring your food to you. You can just reach out and get it for yourself, right from the ground."

Kori stood awkwardly behind him, digging her bare toes into the ground; she was really quite shy. Clark had learned that her mother had died very young...but who could her father have been, he wondered?

"What will happen to Juba?"

Clark's eyebrows lifted. "Who's Juba?

"He lives here with his friends. See?" Kori pointed near his right foot. "There he is now. Kal, could he live on the farm with you?"

He followed her finger, and saw a little frog sitting at the edge of the water. It jumped in and swam off, no doubt going to tell all his little frog friends that Superman was about to demolish their home.

Clark sighed. Maybe this was going to take much more planning.

"Of course he can. You'd better get back before Dierdre knows you're gone, Kori. Or we'll both be in trouble!"

"Okay, Kal!"

The little girl ran quickly back to the house, as swift as a deer. He marveled that the Amazon children were so resilient, but of course this wasn't Metropolis, or Gotham City for that matter.

Clark turned to follow her back, but then he paused, and half-turned, looking behind him. He heard something approaching, it sounded like the thrumming of horse's hooves, still miles away. Was it one of those crazy Getai looking for him? If so he'd better hurry back quickly before she got within sight…

Then Clark heard something else altogether, and his expression changed completely.

* * *

Diana had entered the land of the Getai unchallenged, but she kept a watchful eye out for her Northern sisters, who were prone to rush out and attack anyone not of their tribe (and later claim they were just having a 'bit of fun'). She wasn't in the mood for scrapping; she'd been riding all day and was, to her surprise, a little fatigued from the unaccustomed riding, not to mention hungry. She actually had only a faint idea of where Dierdre's farm was located but hoped she would find it by nightfall.

Grey Eyes suddenly stopped, snorting, and Diana was immediately alert.

"What is it, girl?" She whispered. Her eyes scanned the woods around her. It was not beyond possibility there could be a pack of Themysciran wolves about; they avoided human villages, but were free to roam the forests for their prey, and she was in their territory.

A sound came from somewhere to her right and Diana turned towards it, her hand automatically reaching for her sword, but then Grey Eyes whinnied and reared up on her hind legs. She grabbed at the reins, cursing as she felt herself slipping, but before she could fall she felt arms around hers and she was pulled off and away.

A second later she was floating above Grey Eyes, held tightly from behind, and a man's bristly beard was scraping her cheek.

"Now that men have been allowed on the island, can a woman no longer travel in Themyscira without being accosted by some rough bandit?" Diana growled indignantly.

"I'm Hippolyta's worst nightmare," Clark hissed into her ear. "I've captured her royal daughter, and now I shall take her back to my lair to do with as I please!"

"You dare to manhandle a pregnant woman? Truly, you nothing but some low beast!"

That was it, Clark couldn't keep from laughing, and Diana joined him. She turned around in his arms, and embraced him tightly, her lips pressing onto his. For a minute they hovered together in the air, their arms entwined, kissing deeply. Finally, slowly they descended down to the ground.

"How I've missed you, Diana," Clark said throatily, still surprised at seeing her here. He looked down at his wife's belly and just as she expected, the look on his face was full of emotion, which swelled her heart. "Oh...it's incredible.." He looked at her again and his happiness seemed to practically radiate from him. "I can hear the heartbeat!"

"That must be how you found us," Diana still clutched him, not wanting to let him go yet. "How I have missed you! Every moment without you has been torment!"

_Yes, I bet, alone with your mother!_ Clark thought, but he didn't say it out loud. "For me too!"

Finally Diana loosened her grip on him. To her relief, he seemed fine, even though he was dressed like in semi-Getai fashion, in a sleeveless woolen vest and long striped trousers.

"Ugh, you look like a...a hippy at the Glastonbury Festival!" She eyed him. "Have the Getai been bothering you?"

Clark didn't dare tell her what they'd tried to do with him at the Assembly. "Oh, no not at all," he replied. "I got to meet Boudicaa and everything's fine, she's made sure Dierdre treats me okay. You have to come see the school...it's not far."

_You are still a bad liar, Kent,_ Diana thought, and knowing her northern sisters she guessed the truth but it didn't matter now. She was with her mate and that was what she cared about.

"What about you, are you all right?" Clark suddenly looked worried. "Why did you come out here? Has something happened?"

"No, it was...I just had to see you. The baby is fine. I just missed you."

"Did you have a fight with Hippolyta?"

Diana shook her head. "No, I didn't. I just wanted to be with you is all. One of my 'urges' I guess."

Clark guessed correctly that Hippolyta didn't know she was gone, but he also didn't care right at this moment. He was feeling another type of 'urge' begin to overwhelm him. It had been three months, after all!

He pulled the Amazon Princess back to him forcefully, pressing his body against hers, staring down at her with such a lustful look than she positively quivered in his grip.

"I want you right now," Clark's voice came out a deep growl. "Right here."

"Not here," Diana said hurriedly, although she really wanted nothing more than what Clark was suggesting. "There are wolves here. Let's ride back to your place."

"Let's use the express lane then," Clark felt he couldn't wait for the horseback ride. He promptly set Diana back on her horse, then scooted underneath Grey Eyes and picked her up. "I'm sure she won't mind!"

Diana laughed. "Clark, you're not supposed to fly!"

"Would you prefer to delay our renuion then?"

Diana didn't.

* * *

_Next morning_

Diana woke up before Clark, just before the dawn. She stretched luxuriously, and turned so that she was facing her husband. She opened her eyes, saw him still asleep, with just the hint of a satiated smile on his lips.

They were both in Dierdre's restored barn, snuggled together. Clark had constructed for himself a small loft above the hay and the animal stalls, and managed to furnish it comfortably yet simply with a pallet and a few blankets.

For the moment she lay still, her head resting on his broad shoulder, her fingertips lightly stroking the hairs on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with his steady breath. She looked at his profile in the faint light. She thought he was so impossibly beautiful – yes, that was the right word – he could be an Olympian God. No, he was better than those jealous, bickering Gods, because more so than his handsome looks, Diana knew his true beauty lay in his character, his passion for truth and justice, his morality, and compassion for others and his love for her and his friends.

_If only my sisters could see you as I do_! Diana thought wistfully. _They would accept you without fear._

Her mind drifted back to their first encounter, the battle with Darkseid, then their subsequent adventures together, their friendship, their first kiss, their first tentative dates together. She remembered their first intimacy, in his apartment in Metropolis. They had come back from a wonderful night out: first a dinner at a restaurant both of them liked, then dancing at a trendy club, and then back to his place. It had all been spontaneous and unplanned. Soon, before either of them realized what they were really doing, they were in each other's arms, undressing the other, eagerly caressing the other as if they could not get enough of one another. She remembered Clark's strong hands over her body. They had ended up in his bedroom, and before she knew it he was lying on top of her, in the position the Amazons described as shameful submission, and she felt his lips on her breasts, the heated intense look on his face; she'd felt his manhood, incredibly hard and thick, pressing against her belly…

For a moment - a seconds' breath - Diana's ingrained tradition nearly overwhelmed her. Here were all the fears of the Amazon race, the teachings of the Iron Rite, that taught this was the moment of supreme danger. It was in this moment when a man would reveal his true and awful nature – he had her at her mercy, now he would show her violence if she resisted him. He would force her beneath his strong body and ravage her, not caring if he caused her pain or even killed her in order to slake his lust. In that split-second, a mindless panic almost overcame her and if she had had her sword with her…

But Clark must have sensed her momentary hesitation, and fear. He'd stopped pressing down on her, despite his evident desire, and neither rushed her nor compelled her to do anything horrible. As he pulled off of her, shakily mumbling some apology or other, she saw in his eyes all the times he'd been afraid to be intimate with a woman, for fear he would hurt them or that they'd reject him. She'd hushed him and drew him back down to her, no longer fearful...and then there was no problem after that; even the initial pain of first taking him into her was soon forgotten in the whirlwind of passion that enveloped them, and for hours that night they'd enjoyed each other, savoring their first lovemaking together.

It was then, Diana realized, that she knew for a fact that the ancient teachings were wrong. Men were not always evil. Men could be loving, and intimate without resorting to violence. It was Steve Trevor who had shown her that men and women could be friends (and for that she would always remember him fondly), but it had been Clark who'd shown her true love.

She would have been happy even if Clark decided he wanted to break up and see other women, but it soon became evident he was as smitten with her as she with him, and not long after that night they'd decided on the handfasting. For Amazons, to commit oneself to a lover required no special ceremony - one swore devotion to a partner and that was that. Clark had said that Kryptonians bonded too, but that it was based mostly on genetic and professional suitability, although fondness for one's partner played a little part in it. So they'd created their own vows, based on both their cultures, and their own ceremony, on a island in the Peloponnese. It was just the two of them, on a hill overlooking the Aegean Sea, him in his cleaned and polished suit and her with a white cloak over her corselet, her hands painted with henna for the occasion. Soon after, they'd gone to the Watchtower and announced the news to the other League members, who actually weren't all that surprised that the two of them had made it "official." That had been the easy part. Even then, Diana knew that she would have to reveal this to her mother and her sisters, who would take it with a lot less enthusiasm.

Diana felt sometimes that her love for Clark would burst her heart, it was almost like a physical pain. On the heels of that, an uninvited memory entered her mind. The dream of the other night, the one in which she had seen Clark, dead or dying.

The thought of losing Clark would be too terrible to bear; although as members of the Justice League they knew they would always face that possibility, but here, now, suddenly along with the passion came a unexpected fear that nearly took her breath away. All of a sudden, she felt such a premonition of horror and death, not for her, but for her husband. It came like a chill wind from nowhere, so powerful that she almost moaned aloud.

_Gaia_! Diana thought, shocked. _From what pit of Tartarus did that come from?_

She must have clutched at his chest in her distress, because then Clark stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and he opened them. His sleepy eyes fell on her and he smiled. Seeing his smile, like the sun's rays, Diana's fears soon evaporated, and she rolled closer against him.

"Mmm," Clark murmured in his deep voice. "Best wakeup I've had in months!"

"Me too!" She relished the feel of his arms coming up around her. If only they could stay like this forever!

"Sometimes in here I feel like I'm back in Smallville," Clark said thoughtfully. "Remember, when we used to sleep in the barn?"

"Mmmm," Diana pressed her lips against his warm skin. "I think that is how we made the baby in the first place!"

Suddenly a loud thud hit the wall of the barn, startling Diana. Clark quickly glanced at the far wall, and groaned aloud. Before Diana could ask what was wrong, someone hailed him from outside.

"Oi, man!" A voice speaking in rough Northern Amazon dialect came through the wooden walls. "Are ye awake yet?"

"Care fer some company?" A second voice called out. "We can keep ye warm better than yer cows!"

"Unless ye prefer them to us!" Loud giggly laughter then came.

"What is that?" Already Diana's voice sounded truculent, which Clark recognized as a Bad Sign.

"It's nobody, it's only these two Getai sisters, they come every week and…"

"Sisters?" Diana said in a low malevolent tone. Clark recognized this as also her usual prelude to violence. He hurriedly sat up and pulled on his trousers. "It's nothing," he said quickly. "I stay in here when they turn up. They just yell and throw things, but they go away when they see I don't react, they must just be bored in their village..."

"Oi!" The first voice shouted again. "Don't ye want a cuddle? C'mon, man! It is not good to keep it all bottled up inside ye!"

"And the Princess is a long way off!" More raucous laughter. "Sure, you have enough to spread around!"

"That's it!"

Before Clark could say anything there was a thunderous _boom_ and then there was a roughly Diana-shaped hole in the side of the barn. He sighed. More work to repair the barn, and more lumber to be acquired. However, the look on the faces of the Getai sisters as Diana charged out at them: priceless. He heard the laughter of the Getai quickly turn into yelps of pain as Diana sent them packing, with a warning not to show up again. Quickly, he finished dressing, and ran his fingers threw his hair.

Diana came back into the barn, looking rather satisfied.

"They won't bother you again," she announced. "I've seen to that."

"I'm sure you have," Clark floated down to the ground. "But what about Dierdre?"

"Oh, yes, Dierdre," Diana smiled. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see her Princess!"

The Getai schoolteacher was already planning the day's lessons when she caught a glimpse of Kal in the corner of her eye. The sun was already above the horizon and he was just now up! That man thought he was quite something fancy, ever since his audience with Boudicaa! Somehow she had got to put him back in his place!

As soon as he came within range she lit into him.

"So because ye have Boudicca's blessing ye think ye can sleep in late in in the mornings, do ye? Well let me tell ye-"

Clark relished yet another priceless look on the woman's face as she saw the Princess walking just behind him. He beamed - this was going to be a good day!

"My-my Lady!" Dierdre recovered from her shock and stood up hurriedly, brushing off the front of her tartan muumuu. She bowed, as gracefully as her bulk permitted. "Ye're most welcome here at my humble school. Please...let me present to ye me pupils."

With much shouting, Dierdre immediately rounded up the kids, all nine girls goggling at Princess Diana, the first time they had set eyes on her.

"Halkyone, Kori, stand up straight! Don't dilly-dally…Iocasta, take your finger out of your nose, you silly girl! Now, all together, welcome our Princess properly."

"Welcome, Princess Diana," all the girls said and bowed, following Dierdre's lead. "May the Goddess bless you and yours."

"Blessings to you," Diana said graciously. "I am so glad to see all of you."

Dierdre approached the Princess, nervously wringing her hands, still clearly flustered, darting uneasy glances towards Clark.

"What brings you here, m'lady?" Dierdre asked nervously, although she thought she knew why.

"Oh, just…passing through," Diana glanced quickly at Clark. She hadn't quite planned on exactly what to say. "It's been a long time since I've been to the North to see my Getai sisters."

"You are most welcome here," Dierdre said. "Your presence honors us. Please, stay and eat with us."

"Thank you," Diana replied, trying not to look at Clark, lest she crack up. "We shall join you for breakfast."

"Er, whatever m'lady wishes, both of ye're more than welcome to come in and share our table."

"But Dierdre," Iocasta said. "You said that Kal's not allowed to have our..."

"Hush, silly girl! Go inside and get washed, all of you, and set the table for our guest...guests."

Dierdre nervously herded her charges inside while Clark and Diana looked at each other and grinned.

"This is definitely a welcome change!" Clark remarked.

"I am thinking this isn't your usual treatment," Diana said dryly. "Well, you are right. Change is going to happen, starting now!

Breakfast that day was one of the best in Clark's recent memory. The children, watched over by a nervous Dierdre, were full of excitement at seeing a real, live Princess, and bombarded her with questions about life in the Palace and Mans World. Afterwards, the Getai matron had them lined up again and perform songs and dancing for Diana, while Clark watched with pleasure.

"We have one more thing to show you Princess," one of the oldest girls, Alexa, said. She handed her a a papyrus scroll. On the top read,

_The Themyscira Times._

_All the News Fit to Print (and Then Some)_

_Weather Today is Hot. Like Yesterday._

_Halkyone scored top marks again in class._

_It is rumored Iocasta will be promoted to chief singer in our choir._

_Persephone was sent to her room for talking back to teacher._

_Village News: Our Getai Sisters will invite us to their Fall Festival. Same as Last Year._

_News from the Capital: Kal reports that Themyscira's Sewers are new and improved, from old and lousy before he came to our island._

_Weather Forecast Tomorrow: Hot_

Diana laughed delightedly. "This is wonderful!" She looked at Clark. "Was this your idea?"

Clark smiled. "Really, it was Alexa's. She asked what I did for a job - my real job - so I showed her."

"Wow," Diana said. "Our island's first newspaper!"

Dierdre shook her head in weak protest and grumbled beneath her breath. "Spreading sedition and impudence!" She looked at Diana. "Forgive me m'lady, but it is time for th' bairns' classes..."

"Yes, we won't detain you any longer," She looked at Clark. "I will...inspect the lands, with Kal's help."

A few of the girls giggled at the look on Diana's face. Dierdre glared at them.

"Hurry and get your styluses and papyri!"

Diana turned to Clark. "Shall we go riding together, Kal?"

"Sure thing! I'll go get Grey Eyes ready...if she'll behave!"

After Clark had gone, Dierdre approached Diana nervously once more.

"I trust m'lady is pleased?"

Diana nodded. "Yes, I am. You've done wonderfully with the children. I am happy to see Kal is doing well here."

"Ah, yes...I am glad to find favor in your eyes," Dierdre replied but this was formula. She abandoned it.

"Is everything else... well, m'lady?" The Getai woman could hardly keep her eyes from the Princess' noticeable baby bump. She'd heard the stories but to see it with her own eyes! However would she explain it to the bairns?

"Quite well, thank you," Diana looked at the woman sharply, and Dierdre immediately lowered her eyes.

"Th' man...Kal, I mean, he...about th' Amazon children..."

Dierdre clearly dared not ask it aloud, but the question was implicit in her words.

"He does not know," Diana replied in a low voice. "Has he asked?"

"No. Not me, m'lady, anyways, " Dierdre began wringing her hands again, apparently her usual response to stress. "If...if he _should_ ask...?"

Diana was silent a long moment. She recalled her conversation with Clark months ago, after their argument. He'd asked about the male children of the Amazons then.

_Diana, why aren't there any boys here? Surely, the Amazons don't all have girl children?_

Clark had been insistent, true to his journalist nature.

_We have mostly girls. The few boys that are born...you should not ask about them, Clark._

_Why not? What do you do to them?_

_They don't...survive. Call it whatever you want. I know it happens in Man's World, to girls..._

_That isn't right, there or here!_

_I'm not saying it is! But that is how it is here._

_So what about our child? What if you have a boy? Our boy?_

_How can you think I would let that happen to our child! If it is a boy, he won't be raised on Themyscira obviously! We'll take him back to Metropolis, anywhere you want..._

Diana was reluctant to say anything more, and Clark finally let it drop, although he saw that he was far from satisfied with her half-answers. She only hoped that they would be gone before he learned the truth...

"M'lady?"

"Tell him..." Diana paused, then began again. "Tell him...whatever you wish."

"I...I understand m'lady."

Diana nodded to the flustered schoolteacher and walked away to join Kal. Dierdre watched her leave, feeling pity for the young Princess, and, she realized with some surprise, for the big oaf himself.

Clark and Diana spent the rest of the day riding in the valley. Together they visited the Getai villages, and Clark saw that Diana was congratulated by her sisters, who looked at her admiringly for her relationship to Clark. More bawdy jokes were made, which this time Diana shared in. Clark still blushed. They didn't return to Dierdre's holding until late afternoon.

"When are you going back to the Capital?" Clark asked, after putting Grey Eyes in her stall and tossing in some hay and water.

Diana shook her head. "I've decided I'm not going back."

Clark looked at her in surprise. "What?"

"Hippolyta rules just fine without me, she always has. Philippus manages the training program for the visitors - she can handle Lois fine on her own. There's nothing for me to do. I will stay here with you."

"But you can hardly live in a barn..!"

"The barn is just as comfortable as the Palace," Diana insisted. "I don't need any frills. I can give birth there if I have to. This way, you'd be certain to be there with me." _Actually I would prefer it, to be away and out of the Palace. _

"If Dierdre has any objections, I'm sure I can help her get over them."

Clark remembered what Boudicaa had asked of him. He made a decision.

"I want you to do me a big favor Diana," Clark took a deep breath.

"What is that?"

"Return to the Palace."

* * *

Clark drove in the last nail in the wooden board with his hand. There, the hole in the barn was now fixed, good as new, or almost. He looked over his shoulder and saw Diana, seated with her back to him at the edge of the far side of the hill, watching the setting sun go down in a beautiful ball of orange.

He sighed. She hadn't taken his suggestion very well. Or maybe the mood-swings hadn't entirely gone away. Either way, Diana had shouted at him, he replied, she shouted some more, and then gone off to sulk, alone. Clark really hoped he was doing the right thing by suggesting she go back. But Rao knew, Hippolyta was probably having the mother of all fits by now. If Diana stayed here, that would damage their relationship even more, perhaps for good.

He walked up the hill and sat next to Diana, not speaking. He noted that she was determined not to look at him. He contented himself with watching the sunset with her.

After several long minutes it was Diana who finally broke the silence. "I don't want to leave you again," she said simply. "I want to say here with you."

"I know," Clark replied quietly . "But you know this would only drive more of a rift between you and your mother, and it's big enough already."

"Why do you care so much about her feelings?" Diana suddenly blurted. A petulant tone had crept into her voice which she hated but she couldn't help it. "She has treated you with nothing but contempt!"

"She's your mother."

"I know that! And at this moment, I don't particularly care to see her."

"You don't mean that, Diana."

"Clark, I know what I am talking about!"

"Do you, Diana?" Clark returned his gaze to the sun. "You know, I would give almost anything to see Martha Kent again, even for just five minutes. I wished I could have met Lara Lor-Van just once. You still have a mother who's alive."

"Clark, my mother-"

"I know she hates me. She would even if I had nothing to do with you. Maybe there's nothing I can do to change that. But I don't want to be the reason you estrange yourself from her. I know you want to be with me, but surely, we've only got a few more months to go."

_Oh you foolish man, _Diana thought_. That's not the only reason why I want to stay here. I want to stay to make sure you come to no harm, so you can see your child before...in case something happens..._

He thought that Diana was on the verge of protesting again, but instead she only said,

"For you Clark, I'll do as you ask."

Clark swallowed. "Thank you, Diana."

She turned to him, grasping her hands. She placed them on her body, not on her belly.

"We still have tonight," she husked. "Let us make its memory sustain us for the next few months, at least."

* * *

The morning arrived, much quicker than either of them wanted. After Grey Eyes was saddled, Clark and Diana stood together, facing each other. Parting a second time was just as hard, and she bit her lip to keep the tears back. Clark sensed her mood. He placed both of his hands on her, this time on her belly, looking down with intense concentration. She knew what he was doing, but his expression was unreadable. Finally he looked up.

"Do you want to know?" Clark whispered.

Diana shook her head. "Let it be a surprise."

Clark leaned in and kissed her; she returned it, once again feeling that chill wind of disquiet, and it took all of her will to force it back into the darkness.

"Be safe, Diana," Clark whispered against her lips. "Time will go by quick, you'll see."

Diana forced a smile on her face. "Of course it will."

Diana leapt on the back of her horse. Before she could leave, Clark grasped her hand. Diana looked down.

"Thank you for coming to see me," Clark said. "It made me happy."

"And me, also. Do not be late for me, husband."

Without another word she rode off, not looking back.

Clark watched her until she was far off and out of sight. He turned around but instead of walking back to the barn, he began walking into the valley. At first he took regular human strides, but then they became longer, and longer, until he was practically bounding over the earth each step the length of a football field. He spread his arms and threw back his head and shouted out gloriously, not caring who heard. At this moment he cared for nothing else but what he had just glimpsed in Diana's belly.

_A son!_

He had been able to see it clearly. Diana was carrying a boy, his son! It was no guesswork, it was a fact - he was no longer the last son of Krypton. The House of El, and all of Krypton, would continue to live on in his child, his and Diana's. He was no longer alone in the universe, the last of his race.

No longer the last.

In his joy, all his still-unanswered questions were forgotten. But in due time, they would be brought back home...and then, he would come to regret his decision to return Diana to the Capital.

* * *

**[AN: Thanks for reading! As always, please review! Yes, just like Will & Kate's kid, it's a boy...and if you've been reading all the previous chapters, you know what complications this is going to create! I hope Clark and Diana enjoyed a little peace and quiet in their brief time together since horror and violence is going to get REALLY amped up in the forthcoming chapters, there will be lots of fighting and blood and hopefully horror for those of you who like that sort of thing ;) Plus some shocking (and I mean SHOCKING moments)...poor Clark & Diana! Next Chapter: What happened to the Batman...]**


	32. Chapter 24 - A Noblewoman of Ulthar

**[Batman-centric chapter up!]**

**Chapter 24 – A Noblewoman of Ulthar**

"Randolph Carter, who had all his life sought to escape from the tedium and limitations of waking reality in the beckoning vistas of dreams and fabled avenues of other dimensions, disappeared from the sight of man on the seventh of October, 1928, at the age of fifty-four. His career had been a strange and lonely one, and there were those who inferred from his curious novels many episodes more bizarre than any in his recorded history...Carter lived in Boston, but it was from the wild, haunted hills behind hoary and witch-accursed Arkham that all his forbears had come. And it was amid those ancient, cryptically brooding hills that he had ultimately vanished."

- _Through the Gates of the Silver Key_, H.P. Lovecraft.

The morning light possessed an odd bluish tinge as it pierced the windows of the chamber where Bruce Wayne lay, asleep in a four-poster canopied bed. When the light hit his face he opened his eyes; he saw the same luxurious rooms and elegantly appointed furnishings all unchanged from the day before and the day before that…for the past several months now.

_Not a dream_, he thought. _No, not a dream._

Bruce swung his long legs over the side of the bed, and rubbed his face. Soon he got up and did his customary stretching, testing his healing body. He'd noticeably lost some weight, but almost none of his muscle - that was good. After he finished he went to the nine-foot-tall armoire and opened it. Inside was a selection of fine clothes, although of a style not worn by upper-class men for decades.

Pushed to the far side, out of sight, was his Batsuit.

Bruce looked at it for a long moment then left it hanging on its hook. Instead he selected the old-fashioned attire, carefully dressing himself by the full-length mirror. Then he combed his hair and shaved. He looked at himself again in the oblong mirror: dressed neatly in a collared white shirt beneath a coal-black frock coat and long trousers, with high black riding boots, he appeared as a well-off gentleman from the late Victorian/early Edwardian period of history. The trim black goatee he'd recently grown only complemented the look.

Per his regular routine he went into the other room, what once used to be called the sitting room in well-to-do houses. His breakfast was already laid out. Fruit, a kind of porridge that tasted like maple oatmeal, a glass of milk. He ate alone. Early on during his residence in the Keep, he'd insisted upon that.

When he'd finished, he left the rom and walked out into the corridor. The hallway was long, and lined with statuary of curiously robed men. A solitary footman waited at the far end of the corridor by the curling staircase that led down to the ground floor. He was a short balding man with bulging eyes and thin, pale lips. Although he didn't look intimidating, his martial training was displayed by the chainmail-like gherkin he wore instead of a vest beneath his black coat.

He bowed as Bruce passed him.

"Good morning, Sir. I am obliged to inform you there is a dinner party tonight. Your presence is requested."

Bruce nodded. "I will be there."

"Very good, Sir."

As he did every morning, he ventured outside the Royal Keep for a walk, an old practice once called a "constitutional." It was overcast, but not cold: in fact, the weather hardly ever changed here, at least in the months he'd been here. He was soon confronted by a maze of cobblestone streets; he imagined that he might recognize buildings from the old Gotham City, of over one hundred years ago. But as he made his way along the winding paths, he would come across other reminders that he wasn't in Gotham: buildings whose architecture was nothing he'd ever seen before, and constructed of materials he'd never seen. What he did recognize puzzled him. Colonnades made of solid onyx, obelisks of pure silver, mausoleums and temples, and other bizarre monuments. Bruce's precise mind catalogued everything he saw, the strange creeping foliage around the walls of the city, the quiet, cluttered shops, the scent of decay...

There were only few people out at this time of day. They were almost all men dressed like him (there seemed to be very few women, at least who went abroad in daylight) in severe dark clothes, some wielding walking canes topped with the heads of strange animals. Bruce used one too; his was topped by the head of (what else) a bat. The whole morning he passed a single man, a tottering old gentleman with an iron-gray VanDyke beard and a weathered, haunted face. He nodded solemnly at Bruce as he passed him, and Bruce nodded civilly back. Probably most of the people here knew who he was by now, but it was difficult to determine how many people actually lived here - the city of Alar, by the shores of Lake Demhe.

Bruce thought that he ought to know layout of the city quite well, but the place had a strange dreamlike quality to it, so that he never could be sure if he was in the same place twice. As for the people: the Alarians, too, seemed to be human but they looked, no they _seemed_ different somehow, although Bruce wasn't sure how, or why. Perhaps, he thought, they also looked not only out of place but also out of time, as if they'd stepped out of some 19th-century photograph.

As he walked, he paused from time to time, and raised his head, his nostrils catching the whiff of some scent, that he'd noticed in the cave beneath Arkham - that scent of decomposition; on some days he thought he caught the same smell, but it was very faint and disappeared quickly. Still, it was there, as if stalking him. He walked on thoughtfully.

Bruce Wayne made his way to the top of a hill overlooking the city. He saw the high-walled Keep where Alar's king lived, and where his own rooms were, surrounded by tall narrow towers which resembled Islamic minarets. Again he was struck by the odd mixture of old New England and medieval, fantastical architecture that was Alar. It was certainly unfamiliar but it was not unpleasant to look at. Actually, it was quite beautiful in a surreal sort of way. He could see the Lake of Demhe in the distance; its waters grey and placid. He was never able to see the far shore - there was always an impenetrable layer of mist that concealed whatever lay on the opposite bank. It was odd, but the cloud bank never seemed to move, at any time of day.

But Bruce couldn't allow himself to be swayed by its attractiveness, or its strangeness. He had come here on a mission, and he couldn't allow himself to be detained any longer, now that he was sure he was fully healed. He looked at his cane – he'd needed it at first, while he recovered.

He pulled his arm back and threw the bat-headed cane away from him. The time had come. He had to leave here, and travel on, to Themyscira.

* * *

The dinner party was held in the large dining room of the Keep, an opulent chamber twice the size of the one in Wayne Manor. Bruce had been to a few dinners like these before, and knew the routine. There would be a long rectangular table dominating the room laden with multiple courses, with somberly-garbed footmen waiting at table behind the diners.

Bruce had spent the rest of the day after his walk preparing his Batsuit. There was nothing wrong with it; surprisingly his utility belt was intact, even his explosive batarangs were still there. He planned to leave the next morning. Still, courtesy demanded that he inform his hosts of his departure.

Joining the other guests at dinner Bruce recognized some of them. There was a haughty woman with a high forehead, perhaps in her early forties (or who looked to be), elaborately dressed in a gown of shimmering sable and silver; Bruce knew she played some role in the governing of the city suspected that she actually did most of the work of governing, while the present ruler attended to his scholarly pursuits.

"Ah, you've deigned to join us this time," the Lady Lavinnia said to him reproachfully, her typical tone of voice with him. Bruce suspected that she considered him to be some wayward relation who had to be rescued from an unmentionable problem, as if he'd had an issue with drinking or gambling away the family fortune.

The other woman he recognized was an ancient horror who managed the Household within the Keep itself; her white hair was pulled back from her lined face in a harsh bun, and she looked at everything through spectacles that had to be held to the eyes, an ancient model called a lorgnette.

"Indeed," the horror said in a high, withering voice. "You've been most remiss!"

"My apologies, Aunt Asenath" Bruce inclined his head to her; everyone called her 'aunt' as a term of respect, although didn't seem to be anyone's relative, but everyone, even the King, seemed to be frightened of her to one degree or another and made efforts to not annoy her. Bruce was polite but tried to spend as little time with either of them as possible. "I was seeing to my attire."

"Hmmph." Fortunately, she turned her attention away.

Bruce looked around at the other guests. Bruce immediately recognized the Vizier Titus, who always seemed to be dressed in the same manner, in a broad black coat secured with a wide gold sash, and black gloves, which he'd never seen him take off. He was the second most powerful man in Alar. He was not unpleasant but somewhat stiff and formal in his manner. He was in deep conversation with two other men whom Bruce didn't recognize, but from their bearing and plain dark tunics decorated with gold braid Bruce deduced were affiliated with Alar's military. However his eyes were drawn to the tall, thin man in the corner, who like him sported a wispy goatee, only his was a pale brown as was his short, thin hair. He was dressed quite casually, like a scholar, in a woolen vest with a neat tie. Anywhere else, he would hardly be noticed.

Bruce remembered the first time he had seen him.

He'd been in the caves beneath Arkham, when he first detected the sickening stench of decay, and then the sounds began. Before he could react, some _thing_ had attacked him in the dark, he'd struggled with something huge and black and covered in fur; he'd slammed a fist into it, which felt like flesh, but which did not give. Then pain had exploded throughout his body in return as the creature counterattacked. He felt himself tackled, and then the sensation of falling. He'd struck his head and then he descended into blankness.

When he awoke he was lying in a bed, his head bandaged. His head and the rest of him throbbed with a dull aching pain, but he quickly realized everything was still intact. There was light in his room, or wherever he was. He didnt open his eyes but sensed the presence of two people in the room with him - he tried to remain still, he could still be in danger...

"He's coming around. About time." A deep, baritone voice, with the hint of an English accent.

"Very good. He's very lucky to be alive." The second voice was higher-pitched, cultured, but with a hint of a New England accent. It was closer, he sensed the man was looking down at him.

He opened his eyes, slowly, letting them get used to the light. As his vision cleared, he nearly gasped aloud. His first thought was:

_Papa?_

No, no of course it wasn't Thomas Wayne. The elder Wayne was long dead and in the family tomb. A trick of the light, but he did see some physical resemblance in the man's eyes and the shape of his nose and cheeks, but whereas his father had been a big, hale man this person was very slender with a pale and saturnine face, as if he spent all his time in university libraries and preferred it that way.

"You're awake!" He exclaimed, in a not unfriendly tone. "Who are you?"

Bruce tried to speak, but coughed, instead. He tried to sit up, but the pain prevented him, and he winced.

"Do you understand us?"

"Where am I?" Bruce finally managed to croak out hoarsely.

"You are in the city of Alar, in the Dreamlands. Does that mean anything to you?"

Bruce shook his head. _Dreamlands? I_ _must have succeeded in getting through._

"The sentinel brought you to us. At first he thought you were a night-gaunt, the way you looked! Why were you dressed in such an outlandish costume?"

Bruce stared at the man and suddenly it was clear to him.

"You...you're Randolph Carter."

The slender man's eyes widened. "Yes! But no one has called me that in a long time."

"Who are you?" The other man, larger, with an silvery beard and a stentorian voice, sounded impatient, standing imperiously with his arms folded. Batman later learned that this was Titus.

"My name is Bruce Wayne..."

"A Wayne!" Carter looked at his companion. "I imagined they'd all be dead by now! Or mad. Madness ran in all the Waynes, or at least a kind of single-minded bloody obsession."

"I found your journals in my library. I had to find you..."

Carter beamed delightedly, like a forgotten musician who's discovered he actually has fans. "So you did! But why have you come here?"

"I read about you," Bruce's head was throbbing and he struggled to ignore it. "About your escape from the _Olney_, and the Amazons."

At the word 'Amazons' Carter's smile diminished and he and the other man exchanged solemn glances.

"Are you in danger, young man?" Titus asked in a low voice.

"No. Not me but a friend of mine...might be. I need your help...to get to Themyscira."

There was a long silence as the two men looked at him.

"Yes, well...all in good time. I'm sure you know then that men do not travel to...that place, and you are injured. You have a fractured skull, a sprained back and broken leg, among other things. You need time to recover. Don't worry, we will take care of you. You have nothing to fear here. You are in the city of Alar, _my_ city. Yes, recover...and then we shall talk again."

Their 'talk' had been put off several times, while Bruce recovered. In the meantime, he had come to learn quite a bit about his new surroundings, Carter himself, and the strange denizens of this world, but there was just as much that remained a mystery to him. Bruce supposed that it would have to remain so for the time being - who knew what was going on during his absence with the Justice League! Randolph Carter had given him assurances that he would help him, but he was rather vague about exactly what that help was like, and he was constantly going on about obscure matters that made Bruce impatient. There was something about him that reminded Bruce much of himself, somewhat secretive and deceptive, although that realization was rather disconcerting.

Randolph Carter was in the corner talking to a man and a woman standing side by side, clearly a married couple of some standing. The man was dressed in a rich robe of some kind of embroidered fur with a heavy whitish-gold chain around his neck, and was perhaps a few pounds short of technically being morbidly obese. By contrast his wife was a handsome and slender woman, perhaps a few years older than him, her hair an burnished shade of gold; matching jewelry hung at her throat and she was elegantly dressed in a gown of similar fabric. As Bruce approached, Carter beckoned him over.

"Ah, allow me to introduce you to my nephew, Bruce Wayne. This is Burgomaster Noth of the town of Ulthar, and his wife, the Lady Nais."

Bruce nodded his head slightly, and made a slight click of his heels in the Prussian style, which he'd once seen done in a movie. The Alarians seemed much taken by it.

"An honor, sir," Bruce said.

"Any relative of the King is _my_ honor to meet," Noth had a jovial and hearty voice, the kind that suited a large man. "You must come visit us in our little village!"

"Yes, indeed, a pleasure," Nais offered her hand, and Bruce bowed as he took it. "I can see the family resemblance. Where do you hail from?"

"Gotham," Bruce smiled. "Very far away."

"It must be, I've never heard of it!" Noth chortled.

"I was there once, many years ago," Carter added. "No offense, nephew, but even then I found it quite depressing! Very industrial and dreary."

"It is not so bad...now," Bruce replied, glancing at Nais. "We have many...museums."

"Do you like cats, young man?" Noth asked pleasantly. "You cannot visit Ulthar unless you like cats!"

"Well..."

One of the Alarian Guards appeared then; like the footman he was a pale and sinister looking man: "Dinner is served, m'Lord."

The dinner itself was not a painful affair, like some he'd been required to attend in his guise as a Gotham socialite; although Bruce rarely participated in the conversation, he was careful to listen to everything that was said. Carter presided at the head of the table, Burgomaster Noth was given the place of honor next to him. Bruce sat opposite his wife, the Lady Nais, the others seated down alongside the table. The conversation was rather bland, the usual gossip that accompanied such affairs. Bruce was only hoping to make it to the end, and then he would tell Carter his intentions.

Noth however, turned out to be very voluble, and his loud, hearty voice dominated the table. It was inevitable he would eventually turn the conversation towards Bruce.

"What do you do there in your 'Gotham City', young man?"

"I'm…a businessman," Bruce replied.

Noth laughed, as if he'd been told an amusing joke. "Indeed! Do you intend to extend your business ventures here?"

"Trade," sniffed Lady Asenath. "How common."

"He's from a different society," Carter said, as if apologizing for his _faux pas_. "But my nephew is a true explorer and adventurer, as I was."

"Actually I came here by accident," Bruce gave a heavily edited version of his descent into the cave beneath Arkham.

"Ho! Remarkable! You were lucky not to be lunch!" Noth chortled. "The ghouls tend to eat first and ask questions later…but of course they get no ansewr! Ho ho ho!" He stopped laughing as his wife shushed him irritably.

"Ghoul?" Bruce said. "I don't..."

"Hmm," Lady Lavinnia eyes Bruce sharply. "And what do you intend to do next, young man?"

Bruce turned his attention on his steak. "I am thinking of resuming my travels here."

"And what is to be your next destination?" Noth pressed. "Sarnath? Leng?"

"I came here to help a friend here. I have yet to find him," Bruce remarked pointedly.

"A noble intent," Carter added. "But are you sure you are...up to it?"

"Yes," Bruce said deliberately. "I'm fine now. I've enjoyed my visit to Alar."

"But there's so much more to see here," Lady Lavinnia said. "You have not seen a quarter of what is here in Alar. Young man, do you know why this city was founded?"

The tone of conversation around the table diminished noticeably, as if she had brought up something vaguely impolite.

"I know little of this place, I admit," Bruce said. "But that has nothing to do with my reason for-"

"It has everything to do with why you're here!" Lady Lavinnia said loudly. "Alar is the mirror image of another, something which must be kept from reappearing in this world, or even your uncouth realm!"

"Lady Lavinnia, please," Carter said imploringly. "Hardly a topic for the dinner table."

"Hardly, yes," Lavnnia sniffed. "But I understand that your nephew intended to voyage to Themyscira. That is an utter waste of time, to go to that land of savages! You could be of better use here."

She sounded like an indignant relative learning that he was throwing away a promising career to order to be a truck driver. Bruce glared at her. Most people would blanch at a stare from the Batman, but Lady Lavinnia hardly noticed it.

"Themyscira, what nonsense," she harrumphed in distaste. "Of what possible motive could be worth such an expenditure of effort?"

"The life of my friends," Bruce replied coldly. He noticed, across the table, the Lady Nais stiffen, and he wondered why.

"Your 'friends' are most likely-"

"Please, let us turn to more pleasant conversation," Carter implored. "Shall we go into the drawing room for coffee?"

"Yes, an excellent suggestion," Noth said hurriedly, as if wanting to change the topic urgently. "A most excellent idea, your Majesty, your salons are famous even in Ulthar!"

The guests retreated to an equally elegant anteroom; although Bruce was reluctant to join the others, Carter came up to him.

"How did she know?" Bruce growled.

"Everyone knows your intention," Carter said, as if it was obvious. "Or, guesses it. It's no secret where you came from, or why you are here. We don't talk about it openly because such things are not done here. Some things aren't meant to be talked about openly. The reason why Alar was founded is one, Themyscira another."

"Why is that?"

"Many reasons. I _was_ planning to tell you, after the dinner."

Bruce fixed his eye on him. "Will you stop me?"

"As I said, you are free to do as you please, you are most certainly not a prisoner. But, please stay, at least, until tomorrow morning, and...stay to socialize tonight. You might learn much."

Carter squeezed Bruce's hand and went to join his guests. Bruce knew what would follow, one of his interminable poetry readings, which after experiencing one gave him the sensation of being imprisoned in Arkham Asylum...as an inmate. Still, he wondered what he had meant, and why he had asked him to delay leaving.

Finding himself alone, he went out to one of the balconies, and stared up at the dimming sky. He was intrigued by the twin moons in the sky of this world. He rested his hands on the balcony railing, thinking of what might await him next.

There was a sound behind him and he turned around. The Lady Nais was behind him, looking very beautiful in the moonlight. She gave him a pleasant smile, spread her hands in a nonthreatening manner. Bruce found that he had tensed up, as if he had been expecting an attack. He must be tense...or something must have sent his senses on alert.

"Such a pleasant evening. Are you really the King's nephew?" Nais asked.

"Actually, no. We're more like distant cousins. It just seemed easier for him to introduce me as his nephew."

"Still, I can see the family resemblance in your face. But you don't seem much like him. I don't mean that in a disrespectful way, only that you seem much more...direct."

Bruce shrugged. "It's typical of where I'm from. Gotham City, in the United States. I don't expect you've heard of it."

Nais gave him a look. "Actually I have."

Bruce looked at her in surprise.

"Oh, we here in the Dreamlands know much more than those in your world know of us. Which is not a bad thing, really. Sometimes, it is best for some to remain ignorant."

"I don't believe that."

Nais gave a delighted laugh. "Again, the way you speak! So different, and yet familiar in a way I do mean that as a compliment."

"Thank you.

She came beside him against the balcony. Bruce hoped she was not looking for an alternative to her overweight husband (sometimes that had happened to him during his Gotham socializing), but she only stared up at the moons with him. They stayed like that for a silent moment, enjoying the view.

"I know Carter talks about Themyscira but he has never been there of course. It's very difficult to get to. There are high cliffs and lookouts around most of its shores and they are always patrolled by the Queen's Bodyguard."

Bruce's head turned sharply. Suddenly, what he'd noticed earlier, the way she held her knife and fork at table, her manner of motion, had imparted clues.

"A watch is always maintained on the lookouts, for ships from Man's World. Occasionally a boat comes too close to its shores, and more rarely a shipwrecked victim. If it is male, they are killed instantly, if they are lucky. If not, well, sometimes a little entertainment is had. If it is a woman, she is permitted to live among the Amazons, or allowed to depart, with her memories erased of course."

"How do you know all this?" Bruce answered his own question, and amazement was in his voice. "You are...an Amazon?"

"Yes, or rather, I was an Amazon. Well, then. What is your interest in the Amazons?"

Batman explained about her friendship with Wonder Woman, their time working together in the Justice League.

"So, the Queen has had a daughter! I am surprised she has allowed her into Man's World!"

"How did you come to be here, if I may ask?"

"You've read Carter's journals, I take it? Then you know, the Amazons came after him into Man's World to silence him."

Bruce suddenly recalled another clue - the expression on her face when he'd first mentioned Gotham City in her presence.

"You were one of the ones who attacked him?"

"I once belonged to the Queen's Bodyguard. They are all handpicked for their loyalty, bravery, and martial prowess. We were tasked with a mission: a man had escaped our sisters on a ship in Man's World, and it was feared he would reveal the continued existence of the Amazons to his fellow men. This would be a grave threat to us, to sisters who ventured out to seek…well, you know. To go to Man's World on such a mission was dangerous, but there was no choice. He was marked down to die, because he had seen what we did to men after we'd taken their seed."

Despite himself, Bruce felt chilled at her dispassionate description. "You were in Gotham City?"

"It was our first destination. I must say Carter was correct in his description of your city! Gotham was everything I imagined Man's World would be: noisy, brutish, and ugly. There were four of us - we found his trail but he'd managed to elude us there and he fled to Arkham, but we followed him. We would never give up the prey. He became desperate, and nearly made a fatal mistake. We'd trapped him in a dingy hotel room - how depressing those places are! - but he managed to escape, out the...the...what is that ladder that goes out the window?"

"A fire escape."

"Yes, that. He'd tried to barricade the door, but we forced our way in, and in fact, I was the first to breach. I saw him as he was jumping out, and had raised my javelin to strike him down, but he had a gun and fired it at me as fled."

Nais pushed aside a bit of her dress and Bruce saw a small, puckered scar on just below her collarbone. It was hardly noticeable, but his trained eye recognized it as a bullet wound.'

"I was wounded, but not very badly. We never were able to find him after that, he'd disappeared, so we had to return to Themyscira. But Man's World continued to remain ignorant of us. We did not know then that he had come to the Dreamlands. That was when he started calling himself Ilek-Vad, after the first land he ruled."

"What happened then?"

"Not long after, I ventured out once again to Man's World, this time to conceive a child. We found some vessel out of the Indies, its crew clueless as to our true intentions of course. They were sailors, not warriors. I did not think much of it at the time, it was just another duty. Yet I remember the boy's face who impregnated me – he _was_ just a boy, perhaps not much older than fifteen, and undoubtedly his first time with a woman. He looked at me as if I were a goddess bestowing a blessing upon him. But he was just another man."

Nais shrugged.

"Once we were done we tossed the bodies overboard. I conceived and returned to Themyscira to await my baby. I had no doubt it would be a girl."

Bruce suspected where this was going. "But…it wasn't was it?"

"Mmhmm," Nais examined her rings. "You must understand: I was born an Amazon, raised and initiated into the Iron Rite to believe all Men were evil and depraved. Men were not even truly human but only low beasts of the earth. This was how I thought, and thought if I had a boy, it would be no more difficult to discard than one would cut away a cancer," She looked at Bruce. "No doubt this Princess Diana was raised to believe the same."

He shook his head. This was all so incredible. "Did you have a baby?"

"Yes! I had a boy. I was shocked, but only at my reaction. You see, when I looked at him and he looked at me with my eyes, I knew for a fact I could not give him up. I knew it as well I knew that the sun rose and set every day. It could not be denied," Nais looked out at the city and her eyes were distant and unfocused. "No, not at all."

"You fled Themyscira."

Nais nodded. "Quite right. I did escape thanks to a bit of luck, and the fact that I was stronger than the midwife. I stole a boat and sailed, not caring where I ended up. As it turned out, I arrived in the Borderlands, which stretch between the Dreamlands and the Amazon Sea. I made my way through that desolate county. How I and my baby survived is still mystifying to me. For some time I lived as a wild thing, stealing from the hamlets I saw and avoiding all people. But of course an Amazon is easily noticed! Finally, I was captured. I was taken away in chains. You may imagine my shock when I saw the face of my captor."

"It was Randolph Carter."

Nais nodded, as if Bruce was an exceptionally clever student. "Now, I knew where he had fled to! When I saw that he recognized me, I thought for certain that I would be put to death. I only hoped that he would at least spare my son the same fate. I was prepared to beg at his feet. Since you know an Amazon, I am sure you can imagine at what depths of despair one must be at to do that."

Bruce tried to imagine Diana begging for mercy. He couldn't.

"Well, since you see me here now, I was not executed. I must say, I still cannot really fathom Carter's reason for sparing me – men are still odd creatures to me, even now! – but I think it was because felt guilty for shooting me. It distressed him. I am, after all, a woman. He is a funny man that way."

Nais turned back to the gray moons. "That's my story for the most part. A woman cannot live wild and alone here. He sent me to live in Ulthar; he even gave me a little house where my son and I could live. A terrible thing happened in it one time and the other residents avoided it thereafter. One of the elders of the town, a man named Nith, was given in charge of me, to ensure I didn't go off slaughtering the populace. The years passed, and I...assimilated, if you will. Like...an American. Nith had a son, Noth. He wasn't as big as he is now! He was the only person who was willing to talk with me, accept me, and one thing followed another...now I am his wife and the respectable citizen you see before you."

"Does your son still live with you?" Bruce felt that he would like to meet this young man.

Nais gave him a sad smile. "When he was fourteen years old he and some friends went to a nearby river to go diving. There had been rains the day before so they didn't notice the rocks just below the surface," Another shrug. "He didn't suffer. He died almost instantly."

"I'm sorry."

"It was some time ago. Still, when one loses a child, one is reminded of it every day, in some way. At the time, though, I thought my life was over. I had sacrificed my life in Themyscira, my honor as an Amazon, for a son, and now he was dead. I thought I had nothing to live for. As for my husband, Noth is a good man, but he was just as devastated so he was of little help. He'd adopted him as his own, although he treated him more like little brother. Men can be so inadequate sometimes!"

"Why didn't you? I mean, why did you decide to live?"

"Our cats."

Bruce was startled. "What?"

"You don't know about Ulthar, do you? Cats can talk here, you know, well, in a way. They talked to the people of Ulthar, but they had never talked to me. I was a foreigner, and I thought of them as pests, but of course they are protected there. Until that night my son died. Then they talked to me. They _sang_ to me. I hope you may someday hear them as I hear them now. And after that night, I knew I could live here, and be happy. I hardly even thought of Themyscira, until now," Nais' eyes narrowed. "Until you brought it back."

Batman felt somewhat discomfited. "I still plan to go to Themyscira, I will get there, one way or another. I have to save my friends."

"Yes, you are quite right your friend is in danger," Nais said. "Regardless of his 'superpowers' Hippolyta will find a way to kill him."

"Can you help me?" Bruce asked urgently. "Please!"

"I am only a noblewoman of Ulthar, now. I can offer you very little help. But now that I have told you my story I would like to ask you something in return."

"What?"

"Carter is a remarkable human being, and now he is _more_ than that. He has much power now, more than the Amazons ever suspected. But he is a good man, in his way, if a little overenthusiastic at times. He will help you in your quest, I think. So then my request to you: whatever happens, I beg you to protect Themyscira."

Bruce was stunned. "I don't quite understand. How can I do that?"

"You will."

* * *

The next morning, instead of having his usual solitary breakfast, Bruce Wayne shaved off his goatee and joined his relative, who was with the Vizier Titus, in his private chamber. They seemed to expect him.

"Randolph," Bruce said, without preamble. "About what we talked about previously. I'm grateful that you've helped me recover from my injuries, but I think it's time that I left. I have to get to Themyscira, at least found out what's happened. Also I need to get back to Gotham City as soon as I can, once I'm done."

Carter nodded. Titus was watching him closely, almost regretfully, Bruce thought. Why was that?

"Mr. Wayne," Titus really never addressed him except formally. "Are you sure that this is your intention."

"Yes," Bruce replied. "I haven't changed my mind. If you intend to stop me..."

"No, quite the opposite," Carter hastened to reassure him. We are going to offer you all the help you need. It's just that it's taken this long to get all my preparations in place."

"Preparations? What do you mean?" Batman suddenly had a very bad feeling about this.

"Come with us."

Together they walked down the long corridor towards the south-facing balcony, once which opened into the vast yard below.

"I've given some thought to your dilemma, and what you've told me. Your vigilante tactics may work admirably in a place like Gotham City, but I doubt they will be effective in a place like Themyscira." Carter explained.

"Let me worry about that," Bruce said firmly. He didn't want them involved, he wanted to do this on his own, as he always had.

"Your problem is _our_ problem, and also that of Alar. There is more to this than you think." Carter responded cryptically. "Which is why I have made these plans."

Before Bruce could ask what plans those were, an odor wafted down the hallway, one which made Bruce hesitate in alarm. It was the smell of decay and corruption, the same one he had encountered in the cave in Arkham, in the streets of Alar, and now here in this castle. He nearly choked, but Carter seemed undisturbed.

"That smell…" Batman gasped. "What the hell...?"

Carter nodded. "As I said, this involves more than just you."

Bruce turned around and instinctively recoiled. He recalled something big, and foul-smelling attacking him in the cave. At first, what he thought was a lycanthrope, covered with coarse black hair, but one with a bad case of mange, and by appearance the advanced stages of decomposition, yet one which clearly was alive and moving, covered with foul black hair. The horrid stench which he'd caught a whiff of throughout the city, and with horror he realized what exactly it was. The smell of putrefaction, disease and death. Here it was standing not two feet before him, its long muzzle and wide ears turning to him.

Then Bruce saw its eyes, which were unmistakably _human_, and alert with a livid intelligence.

Instead of recoiling in shock and terror, Carter beamed with delight.

"Ah, Pickman old friend, you've finally come!"

Carter extended his hand, which the thing took in its moldering paws, withdrawing its claws into it.

"Of course I would," the thing that had been the artist Richard Upton Pickman _glibbered_, and its muzzle seemed to curve awkwardly in a grisly grin. "It will be like old times, when we went on your quest to Kadath!"

"Yes, indeed! Do you remember when we fought the moon-beasts together? Once again, into the fight!"

"I look forward to it!" Pickman said and there was a hunger in the thing's voice that was evident.

As if forgetting his manners, the thing then turned to Batman, who had to muster every ounce not to react in fight-or-flight. Its eyes glowed in recognition.

"Ahhhhh, yessss...I remember you. My ghouls found you, in the cave. I am…thrilled to see you are recovered. You were lucky we did, and not a gug!"

A series of choking glibbers, and Batman dimly realized the _thing_ was laughing.

"He is not provender, he is a Wayne," Carter said. "It is because of him we are going."

"What do you mean?" Batman gasped.

"Look here."

Vizier Titus threw open the doors, and the they saw the assembled force in the yard below, thousands of black-garbed Alarian Guardsmen, in their red and black shakos emblazoned with that curious star design, lined up in orderly rows like servicemembers on parade. Bruce glanced down and thought he saw the two military men from the dinner the night before, at their head.

The smell of decay, was even stronger here, and Pickman raised its paw and pointed. Batman's eyes followed his outstetched claw and blanched at what he saw.

"The _ghula_ are here too! We are all ready. Even more of us than your Guardsmen!"

"Very good! I shall address them now."

Carter stepped out at the front of the balcony, and addressed the assembled army, human and non-human alike.

"Once years ago, I entreated the Queen of Themyscira to end her attacks on the people of the waking world. She agreed to stop them. However, I have since learned that she and her Amazons have not stopped. In fact they have continued to waylay helpless travelers, venturing beyond the confines of their island stronghold."

Carter nodded at Bruce, who stared at him in shock.

"Not only have they resumed their attacks in the world beyond the Dreamlands, I know their machinations now. They intend to bring forces into the world that will upset the balance of order. Despite all our previous entreaties, they have ignored us. They do not listen to reason, nor do they intend to. They have mistaken our kindness for weakness."

Carter raised his right arm.

"The Amazons are a lost people, an anomaly of history, existing on glories of the past and a parasitical force on others. I propose to end to this anomaly of history, for all time. Alar will invade Themyscira."

* * *

**AN: I am trying to synchronize SM/WW and Bats' timelines so I gave him a little injury to keep in Alar, like how he recovered in DKR from a broken back and bad knees while in an underground prison in a thirdworld country ;) and had cable TV for the Gotham Channel.**

**Lots of Lovecraftian namedropping left and right here. I always imagine (a young) Vincent Price as Randolph Carter, Christopher Lee or Charles Dance as Titus (he will have a bigger role to play later)**

**I am imagining Alar to be a bit steampunk-ish or dark Victoriana in appearance.**

**The threat to Themyscira is coming true, but not in the way Hippolyta suspects it will, as we see here! What can the Batman do now? And what will happen to Clark and Diana in the meantime? Plots are hatched and unraveled. Stay tuned, readers! And please review! Things may be happening much faster, I want to try to finish this fic before school starts!**

**Next chapter: The Justice League is in turmoil as three of their top members are now absent. Evil is about to emerge. Coming soon: The Transition of Steve Trevor.**


	33. Chapter 25 - The Transition

**Chapter 25 – The Transition of Steve Trevor**

"A still vaguer rumour credits the preservation of a sixteenth-century Greek text in the Salem family of Pickman; but if it was so preserved, it vanished with the artist R. U. Pickman, who disappeared early in 1926. The book is rigidly suppressed by the authorities of most countries, and by all branches of organized ecclesiasticism. Reading leads to terrible consequences. It was from rumours of this book (of which relatively few of the general public know) that Robert W. Chambers is said to have derived the idea of his early novel _The King in Yellow_."

- _History of the Necronomicon, _H.P. Lovecraft

_Pear Valley, California_

Officer Tony Calhoun took another bite of his pastrami sandwich as he idly surfed the Internet on the desk computer during his lunch break. He was only one of two people on duty in the substation today (his buddy, Officer Benson, was in the crapper). The station was – for the time being – refreshingly quiet. He was thankful for that: the past several weeks had been really crazy, what with news crews coming in as far as Los Angeles and Seattle covering what had happened in his small town.

Fortunately all the commotion was starting to die down. There were other, even more gruesome news stories to be found in other places – shooting rampages or other inexplicable crimes - which would finally take the media spotlight away. You just had to know that, even if there wasn't something more violent and shocking, you could count on a hot scandal somewhere involving a celebrity or politician. Yeah, you could definitely rely on at least one of those two things going on in the world to take away the attention of the fickle masses.

Even so, that didn't mean _he_ wanted to listen to all that crap so he strictly avoided news sites like CNN or The Drudge Report and especially the nuttier ones like the Lex Luthor Letter (LLL). The disgraced former CEO of LexCorp had "reinvented" himself as a "whistleblower" with surprising success and popularity, and his Internet news/video channel was rapidly becoming a clearinghouse for all the conspiracy theorists and paranoid nuts out there; the fact that Luthor had gone to prison only gave him some weird kind of "street cred" among those wackos, Calhoun thought.

Still, his curiosity got the better of him and he clicked on LLL link in the computer search engine's "Favorite Sites" (it seemed some of the other officers regularly watched it). It instantly opened onto YouTube and a baldheaded man appeared on the screen, sitting in what looked like a cramped news studio.

"_Today we have a subscriber who asks: Lex, do you think the Justice League is a modern manifestation of the Illuminati? Let me answer that question by stating, right here and now, that there is very little doubt in my mind that the Justice League is a clear and present danger, an organization whose mysterious members have malevolent motives. The recent spate of tragedies, from America's Heartland and now to its western shores means yes, it is possible they are definitely linked in some way to this shadowy cabal. But forget all this historical stuff about 18__th__-century radicals – we have a modern-day version of it right under our very noses! And just what are our elected officials doing about it? What is being covered up? Are the governments of the world ceding their authority? If you subscribe to my channel…"_

Calhoun clicked off in irritation – he didn't really believe any of that shit himself, but he figured that, if you listened to it long enough, you'd probably start buying it. Luthor was entertaining enough. Hell, he knew plenty of people who did, some of them his coworkers! He clicked on the Weather Channel instead - there was going to be a total solar eclipse coming up soon and he was interested in seeing it - when he noticed someone entering the substation.

Officer Calhoun quickly closed down the Internet and put aside his lunch as the tall heavyset man approached him. Right away, he could tell he was not a local. He was a middle-aged guy with thinning hair, dressed in a businesslike tan jacket and dark green slacks unsuited to the warm weather of California. Calhoun thought he looked like someone who could ideally play a New York detective in a Mob-themed movie or cable TV show.

"Special Agent John Jones, with the Federal Bureau of Investigation," the man introduced himself (he even had a hint of an accent hailing from the East Coast). He flashed a badge, but Calhoun barely glanced at it. Surely this guy was the real thing – he could tell as he looked at the man's intense eyes – and he felt somewhat intimidated in the presence of a Fed. Yet he knew what had happened here would definitely concern the government. He only wondered why they hadn't shown up sooner.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Calhoun shook his hand: the guy had a very strong grip, maybe he boxed or did martial arts for exercise, as Calhoun did himself.

"I'd like to take a look at the site of the 'incident,'" Jones said. "The Trevor home."

"I'm afraid you're a bit late for that, what took you guys so long? The crime scene's already been gone over, and they just had the cleaning crew out there yesterday…let me tell you, even _those_ gals needed some counseling after what they saw! Bev and Ann have been doing this since-"

"I'm here now. You still have it secured, don't you?" Agent Jones' no-nonsense voice clearly implied, _It'd better be._

"Well…I think the tape is still up," the officer muttered, referring to the yellow tape that secured the perimeter of a crime scene. "But it's just so no one goes in for a peek or to take souvenirs. There are people driving by, slowin' down to take pictures, what they're expecting to see I don't know, but we're sure no one's tried any vandalism."

The man nodded grimly. "Then, if it's not a problem?"

It wasn't a request. Leaving Benson in charge of the station, Calhoun drove him to the neighborhood where the Trevors had lived. Their house was in an unfinished subdivision, and the closest neighbors lived almost a quarter-mile away, as if their houses were built in a foreshadowing of what would happen.

Calhoun was curious as to what exactly Agent Jones expected to find but he didn't speak once during the short drive, and something about the man's stern demeanor made him think better of asking questions. Anyway, thought the six-year veteran, given who the Trevors are – were - it was no surprise the government would want some answers.

As the police cruiser pulled up to the house, Jones saw that the young man was correct in stating that no one had disturbed the yellow crime scene tape, although it was poorly secured and in danger of blowing away. But the house itself looked ordinary enough. As the two men got out of the car, they both noted how quiet it was. A distant hum of a lawnmower, and the sound of a light wind flapping the tape was the only noise they heard.

"What exactly did happen here?" Agent Jones asked.

"Didn't you get a briefing already or anything?" Calhoun stared at the man.

Jones had, but only from Cyborg. He would have much preferred a briefing from Batman, but unfortunately the man was missing, and despite the frantic efforts of the remaining members of the League, they had not been able to find him either alive or his remains in the cave beneath Arkham, from which he had inexplicably disappeared. Superman and Wonder Woman were still gone, and no one knew how to contact them. But he could hardly say that.

"Of course, but I want to hear it from a…a local officer."

"Well, I wasn't on duty that night, but I can tell you what I know: we got a call from one of the neighbors, claiming that she'd heard disturbing sounds coming from the Trevor house. She lives in the last house on the left that we passed, so you know it had to be loud. Problem was, the lady decided to wait a couple of hours to make up her mind to call. She's a senior citizen type, afraid if she'd reported an incident, she'd get on the bad side the family. People don't like other people gettin' up in their business, domestic violence, y'know."

Jones nodded. "Had there been trouble previously?"

"No, none, that we know of. Anyway we put it in as a possible disturbance and sent a car out there. When they arrived, the place was quiet, but the officers noticed that the door was ajar, so they went in to investigate. Then, what they found, we had a dozen cars out there in a heartbeat…"

"I'd like to take a look inside the house now," Jones interrupted. "Alone, if possible."

"Sure," Calhoun nervously scratched his head behind his cap. "Though I'm not sure what you expect to find. Like I said, our own CSI's been through the place with a fine tooth comb already."

"An extra set of eyes may turn up something someone missed," Jones explained. "It can happen."

"Yeah…that's true. But...one more thing, sir..."

Jones paused and half-turned. "Yes?"

"I know it's probably just another homicide call but...there's a bad feeling goin' round about this. I've talked to most everyone that's been in there since...since that night, and they all say 'bout the same thing, that there's something in there that rubs them the wrong way, as if there was a bad odor, only not something you can smell. Well, I guess you could say that about anyplace that's seen a violent crime but...you couldn't get me to go inside there. Not if I don't need to."

The young officer worried that the flinty-eyed Fed might sneer at him, but the guy only nodded.

Jones stepped underneath the flimsy yellow tape and slowly walked up the stone pavement to the front door. He glanced back at Calhoun and saw he had already taken out his smartphone and was looking down texting. He'd stepped to the other side of the car, facing away from the house.

_Quite right, Officer Calhoun, _Jones thought. _You'd drop that cellphone and crawl and hide under your police car, if you could feel what I feel now._

Whatever the young man had felt, the psychic residue he felt here was strong and unsettling, and he was still outside, on the porch. He'd never felt anything this quite before; there was a strange…_taste_ to it that was not extraterrestrial nor native to this sphere, and it puzzled him.

It also rather disturbed him.

Moving cautiously, John Jones pushed open the front door and stepped inside the dark house. His thick fingers searched for, then flipped on the light switch.

Pale yellow light flooded the living room. As the man had said, the house had already been examined. He didn't see anything gruesome but it was no less unsettling for what he did see.

In places Jones could see empty swathes where the carpet had been cut out and taken away, and the whitened areas on the walls where they had been scrubbed down with bleach…the work of CSI and the cleaning crew, undoubtedly. There were many such spaces. They were surrounded by the wreckage of a place where human beings had once lived. Not a single scrap of furnishing had escaped intact. Whatever had happened here had been thorough and savage. Jones wondered at the scale of the violence. This was no sudden burst of irrational emotion, although it might seem that way to these cops. It was if a powerful force had imploded inside the house buckling even the heavy furniture, smashing everything else to bits.

Of course he knew what the media had reported which was what everyone else knew - that Tracy Trevor and her two children were found dead in their house in Pear Valley, California. Her brother, the former Air Force officer and Justice League liaison Steve Trevor, was not among them, and was declared "missing" and a "person of interest" with whom the police would very much like to talk - his photo was displayed prominently on every news Web site, but no trace of him was yet found.

On the same day of the incident a massive fire had destroyed nearly a block of the old historic downtown Pear Valley, including the site of a community theater where it was known Trevor had visited and worked at prior to his disappearance. There were many missing, a few dead from smoke inhalation and burns, but Trevor was not among them. As of now no connection was discovered. But that hadn't stopped rampant speculation that somehow the Justice League was involved, or that they or the government was behind all of this in some plot to "hush" Trevor for what he knew. Most of the irresponsible rumor-mongering could be traced back to LLL.

That was why Cyborg and the others had come to him, despite his prior decision to not be involved with the League. They desperately needed his help, and with three of their best members gone, he found he could not refuse them. Besides some intuition told him that there was something else here, perhaps worse than the possibility that a former "war hero" had snapped and gone on a homicidal rampage of his own family. This involved much more than the League, the Manhunter felt.

Carefully and methodically Jones explored every room, the living room, Tracy and Steve's rooms, the children's room, the bathrooms, kitchen, and dining room, then he returned to Steve Trevor's room. Yes, the psychic residue was most powerful here, unusual for an ordinary human house. Something distinctly _un_ordinary had happened here, and this was the epicenter.

He crouched down, sifting through the debris still left untouched by the detectives. He picked up a framed photo whose glass covering was still intact. It was a picture of the Trevors in happier times: Steve, Tracy, and the children, a boy and a girl, smiling for the camera. He picked up a few other things, shreds of clothing, pieces of broken toys...

For a brief moment, he felt strong emotions, old and nearly-forgotten ones, but none the less painful for that. He pushed it aside, and forced himself to concentrate. He closed his eyes, turning his vision inward as he laid a palm flat on the photo. He had to know what had annihilated an entire family…he had to make the family _speak_ to him...in their final moments...

...After work, Tracy Trevor (she had resumed her maiden name after her divorce) stopped at the supermarket before heading back home. In truth, she was looking for any excuse to avoid going home to the one-story ranch house she shared with her two kids and her brother; she did not feel like dealing with hassles right now. But she didn't have anywhere else to go on a Friday night. She was too tired to go to the gym (she might as well let her membership lapse), and she wasn't into joining any local clubs or churches, ever since her brother became famous for his relationship (what a joke!) with Wonder Woman, and the Justice League. She knew that was all people would want from her, not her friendship.

Tracy grabbed a cart and pushed it through the aisles, selecting yogurt, cans of tuna, boxes of cereal, putting one box back, then pausing to decide whether or not to buy the discounted chicken wings, or the "pink slime" meat on sale. As she pushed her cart she thought about the shaky state of her finances and what she could do about it. An idea was coming to her; after all, that bastard Graves had profited by writing about the Justice League and her brother. Steve said that he was still bound by confidentiality so he couldn't write or say anything about his experiences, but hell if _she_ was bound by the government's bullshit rules. Why shouldn't she and her family make some money? Everybody else was!

Tracy pushed her cart to the crowded checkout and stared at the trashy magazines beside the gum and candy bars. It seemed just about everyone was making money by spilling the beans, be they gossipmongers or disgruntled government employees. Why shouldn't she do the same? At least the money she would get would benefit the kids. She had to do something, since her hours had been cut and Trent needed new clothes and shoes and Marie needed extra tutoring. As for Steve…

Tracy didn't regret allowing her brother to live with her but, she finally admitted to herself, she was upset with him, and angry. She'd thought he could get some lucrative contracting job, or start his own company, make a new civilian career for himself. Plenty of other ex-military guys did it.

But to her intense bafflement, Steve hadn't done anything of those things. At first she worried that he was having trouble adjusting to civilian life – she was afraid he'd turn out like those vets who became addicted to alcohol and drugs but Steve hadn't gotten addicted to anything…except his newly found obsession with that community theater group.

Initially Tracy thought he was just volunteering a couple of hours a week with them, and spending the rest of his time out job searching. Then, she'd found out that he was spending all his time down at the theater. The costly books she'd bought for him about military-to-civilian transitions lay neglected, next the to the TV and the kids' Xbox. The only book he wanted to read was some old and tattered book he'd borrowed from the theater group, entitled _The King in Yellow._

Tracy had never heard of the play before, but apparently it was one the theater was performing, and to her surprise, Steve had agreed to play some minor role, encouraged by their manager, another ex-special forces guy whom Tracy disliked on sight. When he was not down at the playhouse he was in his room, reading from the book, memorizing it; once Tracy had caught a glimpse of him deeply engrossed in the text, his lips moving silently as he read, in a way she hadn't seen since Steve was a little kid. After that, Steve had shut the door to his room, and wouldn't come out at all except for meals. He even neglected Trent and Marie, where before he'd play with them or helped them with their homework. Pouring over that damn book consumed all his time.

That was a good word for it, Tracy thought, as her shopping cart slowly inched forward, consumed. Steve was _consumed_ by that damn book.

It was bad enough that Steve barely talked to her anymore but it was wrong, what he was doing to the kids. She had really counted on Steve helping with them, but now he wouldn't hardly talk to them either, barely even acknowledged them when they said hello to him. She saw the hurt in their eyes. What was unforgiveable though, was the way Steve had snapped at Trent when the boy gone into his room. It was just natural curiosity, but Steve acted like he'd breached base security.

Steve had caught him and the boy had nearly jumped ten feet in fright at what he saw in his uncle's face. Then Steve had grabbed him and almost physically threw him out of his room.

"Don't ever, _ever_ touch that book! Stay the hell out of my room, do you hear me?"

"Steve!" Tracy had cried out in shock. "Don't yell at him like that!" She'd never heard him even raise his voice to the children before. What had come over him?

"He's lucky that's all I do!" Steve's face was an ugly, unrecognizable mask of anger. "You coddle him too much! If we'd caught you in the sandbox, we'd bust your ass so hard-"

Trent started to whimper, which only seemed to make Steve more angry.

"Steve, stop it! He's just a boy, not a Marine! He just went into your room, he didn't touch anything! What the hell's wrong with you?"

Steve turned to his sister, and for a moment she was really, truly frightened at the look in his eyes. It was as if he'd turned into a stranger, or actually wearing a mask that was her brother's face but underneath it...

"Just keep him the hell out of my room, do you hear?"

_Jones's eyelids creased, hearing the vicious exchange between brother and sister, the crying child. It never ceased to sadden and confuse him how humans treated their own young. He forced himself to refocus, to concentrate harder…he had to see more…_

Then Steve stormed into his room and slammed the door shut on a bewildered Tracy and a crying Trent. After that, Trent wouldn't even look at his uncle, and Marie, sensing the discord, avoided him at all cost. This wasn't how things were supposed to be. After he was done with the military, things were supposed to get better, no more aliens, no more monsters, no more Justice League to cause problems...now things were worse and Tracy couldn't understand it. That had only been the beginning of it. Since then, Steve completely cut himself off from the rest of the family, now spending virtually all his time away. Yes, something had definitely happened to Steve, and it worried – and frightened – Tracy. She was thinking of calling somebody, perhaps someone down at the VA. It didn't occur to her to contact anyone from the Justice League, she was done once and for all with those costumed freaks, this was all their fault. Perhaps if she could talk to a psychologist who specialized in veterans mental health, even if the waiting period was astronomically long...

Finally, the checker totaled up her purchases and Tracy fumbled for her EBT Card and swiped it through the pinpad.

"You still owe $24.39, ma'am."

"What? Didn't my card go through?" Tracy was befuddled.

"Yes, it did, but it didn't cover everything. $24.39, please."

Embarrassed, Tracy fumbled through her purse for a twenty and a five, hearing the impatient shuffles of the customers behind her. After what seemed interminable minutes she managed to fish out two crumpled bills, and took her change, feeling a pang of shame course through her. She fumbled the bags of groceries out of the store and into her car, and finally headed home.

A sudden burst of fury suddenly overwhelmed Tracy, fury at her situation, at the indignity of having to go on food stamps, at having a useless brother. She was the one bringing in all the income, and if Steve thought he could keep on scrounging at her place pretending like he was some overgrown twentysomething slacker, well she was not putting up with it any longer! She was fed up, done with it. She would tell him he either had to snap out of his funk, give up this stupid playtime he was having and get a job. was determined now - she would demand Steve shape up, talk to a doctor or shrink at the VA, and do something else than putz around with this stupid "play-therapy" group. It certainly wasn't making him any better. Yes, she would put her foot down, and if Steve didn't like it he could go live with someone else.

The house was quiet when Tracy got home. It was still early afternoon, and Steve wasn't home yet, and the kids were still out, so she had to unload the groceries and put them away by herself, which didn't improve her mood. She was dismayed that after how much she spent, it hardly filled the cabinets, and payday was another two weeks away.

Tracy stomped into Steve's room, only intending to leave a note for him, _I need you to pull yourself together and find something to do, that pays a living wage.. _when she noticed the book sitting on his desk, neatly in the center, amid post-its.

_The King in Yellow._

Tracy scowled as she saw the plain hardback book. The title was in faded gold gilt, as was the stylized picture of a salamander on its cover. It didn't look very impressive, lying there. How could this stupid book take up all of Steve's time and energy? Maybe that damn thing was really porn, which would explain the obsession. She stepped forward, her hand reaching out for it.

Jones' closed eyelids twitched as he pushed the psychic connection, and he heard himself thinking, although he didn't know why:

_No, don't open it_, he thought. _Tracy…don't open that book, leave it there, alone, walk away right now, right NOW._

But of course Tracy didn't. She opened the frontspiece of the book, feeling the thin, brittle pages. This book wasn't published recently, this was old. Why would Steve read something like this. She turned it at random, half-expecting a Playboy centerfold to fall out. But the words were just lines of a play, with a handful of the same names popping up over and over: Cassilda, Thale, Uoht, Aldones, Camilla, Naotalba. The language was old-fashioned, and didn't seem to make alot of sense:

CASSILDA: Perhaps he is dead. Or too busy in Carcosa, so that he has forgotten to send the Sign. Why not? We are taught that with the King in Yellow, all things are possible.*

She flipped through to another earmarked page.

STRANGER: There are no straight answers. But I tell you this: Anyone who wears the Pallid Mask need never fear the Yellow Sign. You tremble. All the same, my Queen, that era is over. Whatever else could you need to know? Now your Dynasty can start again...Now your Dynasty can start again, and again, the Black Stars can mount the sky one more against the Hyades. The siege can be lifted. Humankind can have its future back.*

Tracy had never gone to the theater to see the play, nor had she taken the kids. She was too tired after her workday. She had no idea how many people went to see it. She didn't work in Pear Valley so none of her coworkers had mentioned anything, not that they were artsy types anyway. Steve had never offered to bring them. From what she read, this didn't look like anything children, or anyone else for that matter, would be interested in seeing. The words rattled emptily in her head, meaningless. Yet she perused another random page, somehow feeling that something was about to be revealed...

CAMILLA: You, sir, should unmask.

STRANGER: Indeed?

CASSILDA: Indeed, it is time.

STRANGER: I wear no mask.

CAMILLA: (terrified, aside to Cassilda) No mask? No mask!**

_Jones forced himself to withdraw slightly from Tracy Trevor's psychic residue, he saw her, hunched over the old book, her eyes wide and staring at the pages. Time ticked by and she didn't seem to notice. He began to hear something else...was it the children returning? No...it was not the sound of children. It was...another sound. A sound of...singing? Yes, oddly enough, a man's voice, singing a strange tune..._

_"Strange is the night where black stars rise,_

_And strange moons circle through the skies_

_But stranger still, is Lost Carcosa..."**_

_Jones tried to find the origin of the sound, but it was distant, yet growing in intensity, yet still sounding as if coming from far away...suddenly he wanted to warn Tracy, as if she were still alive. He could hear her children, Marie and Trent, returning from their play at a friend's house, their shouting and noisy entrance into the house, but Tracy acted as if she didn't hear them, her eyes blank as the scenes of the book played themselves in her mind...she saw the black towers of Carcosa, and the words of vengeance of Queen Cassilda echoing down through the empty streets of her city._

If Calhoun would have entered the house at that moment, he would have seen the special agent kneeling on the floor, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in concentration, his entire body tense, and even the outlines of his form shimmer, as if losing its shape, but the alien struggled to maintain contact with the psychic force left here. He had to know what had happened!

_"Mom? Mom?"_

_One of the kids, the boy was calling out for Tracy, wondering where she was. Jones could still see her, hypnotized by that book. That weird song was becoming more distinct, sounding nearer..._

_"Song of my soul, my voice is dead,_

_Die though unsung as tears unshed_

_Shall dry and die, in Lost Carcosa..."**_

_As the song came to its end, Tracy blinked, and straightened, startled. How long had she been standing here in Steve's room? She thought she heard the kids come in. The yellow light of the evening sun was pouring in through Steve's window, but surely it was not that late..._

_"Mom, where are you Mom?"_

_No, it couldn't be that late, and besides, Steve's window was facing east, so that yellow light couldn't be the setting sun, but if it wasn't the sun..._

_Marie and Trent bounded up to the doorway of Steve's room, excited to have found their mother, but they paused, uncertain, eyes wide, and stared at the corner behind Tracy._

_She turned around, and stared._

_"St-Steve...?"_

_Jones pushed himself away, off of the floor, nearly colliding with the wall behind him, the framed photo of the Trevor family falling from his nerveless hands and shattering on the floor._

_"NO!"_

_The last image he had was of something immensely tall and inhumanly shaped, standing behind Tracy, where there had been nothing there before. Something swathed in tattered yellowish robes, matching the unearthly light pouring through the single window, and then howling darkness within and around it. Jones couldn't imagine what it could be but he had just a smattering of a lingering trace of..._

_?...Trevor...?_

_Screams echoed in the blackness but were mercifully cut short, then a terrible sound over it, something huge and massive, moving off...away..._

The psychic connection snapped. Jones opened his eyes, found himself lying on his back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, where even the plaster had been cracked. Frantically, he got to his feet, eyes wide, but he could feel nothing else. Whatever had been here now, even the residue was gone. Quickly he rushed into Steve's old room, but there was no trace of any book.

Calhoun was not surprised at all, as he saw the big federal agent stagger out of the house, his hand to his mouth, his face pale. He came to rest against the mailbox, one hand braced on it as if to steady himself. That was why Calhoun had never been in the house himself; already his fellow officers were talking of it as a 'haunted' house despite no one ever claiming to see ghosts. It had a bad feeling to it.

"Terrible, ain't it?" Calhoun remarked casually. "I can't imagine what it must've looked like when the first responders showed up. Even after it was secure and the bodies removed, everyone was still shaken, I can tell you that."

"Yes, it was…disturbing," Jones straightened up, running a hand through his sparse hair. "I think I've seen all I've had to here. They never found Steve Trevor's body?"

"It took them awhile to determine that, when they found the bodies, looking like they did, they didn't know whom from whom," Calhoun shook his head. "Nobody's really explained it."

"What do you mean?" Jones turned and looked at the cop.

"They didn't include that in your briefing? The condition of the bodies?"

"What?"

Calhoun continued uncertainly.

"That's really what shook everyone up so much. We've seen shootings and stabbings before, but this…like the bodies were _pulped_…I mean, their bodies were _exploded_."

"How?" Jones asked hoarsely.

"No…no one knows, I don't even know what the coroner wrote, but he said it was like they were exposed to intense pressure, like in outer space. But how could that have happened? Anyway, that's how it stands. I suppose they'll eventually bulldoze the house once everyone's done lookin' at it."

"Steve Trevor," Jones said quietly. "Any trace?"

"Yeah, well, it took a bit of time before someone figured out Mr. Trevor wasn't among the dead – DNA and all - and people started asking where the hell he was. Eventually someone thought to look at the place he'd been volunteering at, the Imperial Dynasty playhouse, but that's the other weird thing. It burned down that same night. A massive stormfront came up. Not usual for this part of the state. Other nights, we'd love us some rain, but it just made things complicated. They think it was caused by a lightning strike on the theater…"

Jones started. "What?"

"Yeah, the damndest thing, a big lightning burst, like an electrical storm. Some of the guys I talked to that night said they'd never seen anything like it, like the storm was alive. I read that it's maybe because of the solar eclipse coming up?"

Jones didn't say anything so the cop continued on, a bit awkwardly.

"Anyway, a few people died from the fire, mostly patrons from the restaurant next door. No one from the theater was found, including Trevor, or the guy that hired him, a man named Robardin. So...we still don't know where he is."

Jones was silent. Calhoun stood there, feeling vastly uncomfortable.

"Thank you Officer Calhoun," Special Agent Jones said finally. "I've see all I've needed to here, I think. Can you drive me back to the station?"

"Sure, but...can I ask you something?"

"Yes?"

"Have you found the Yellow Sign?"

Jones whirled on the officer, and the young man stepped back in fear at the look on the man's face.

"What do you mean?"

"Um, I only mean, that-that the police who came in said that were markings on the walls, something that looked like a question mark with hooks at the bottom, done in yellow paint. They thought it was left by the killer, um, or killers. Maybe a calling card or gang sign, I don't know. But the photos they took of them didn't come out, and the cleaning ladies wiped them off before they could retake them. They were pretty pissed off, but it wasn't their fault, I mean, I don't know why they couldn't take photos-"

The man seemed to relax. Slightly. "No...no there wasn't anything on the walls."

Jones still looked shaken so Officer Calhoun tried to change the subject.

"Do you think…well, I'm not into the conspiracies and things, but do you think this had anything to do with the Justice League? I mean, after all, that Trevor guy fooled around with them before. Do you...do you think he did all this?"

Jones stared at him again, and this time, the cop didn't feel so reassured.

"I certainly hope not Officer Calhoun. But no…I can't say that for certain. C'mon, let's get out of here." He added, forestalling any more questions.

Jones gave one last look at the devastated Trevor house as he got in the cruiser and they drove off. Yes, something terrible had happened here, and it would be League business whether they wanted it or not. They needed to find the others, immediately. A vast danger beyond any of their experience was approaching, fast, and they needed all their strength. All of it.

* * *

**[AN: I don't watch crime shows so yeah probably got all the crime procedurals wrong, oh well. I did want to try to interject a bit of horror to prepare for what comes next. I don't think it will come as a surprise where Trevor will show up next :0**

**Some notes here:**

***These are lines from James Blish's short story "More Light" (1970) which is a King in Yellow story and he actually wrote out the play as the protagonist reads it in a friend's house.**

****Excerpt by the original author Robert W. Chambers, the only part he revealed of the play itself.**

**If you want to "hear" the song it is "Cassilda's Song" which opens Chamber's King in Yellow stories. There are some excellent renditions you can find on YouTube by the bands Stormclouds, The Lindbergh Baby, and Silver Key (my favorite)! Also this appears in my in-btwn fic, "The Hyades Shall Sing."**

**Anyway, I hope you still enjoyed reading It will only get crazier from here on out! As always your reviews are much appreciated!**

**Next Chapter: Back to Clark and Diana: Diana's due date is nearing and Clark is eagerly awaiting the time he can return to the capital to be with her ...But certain, other Amazons (you can guess who, led by one whose name starts with P) are plotting to ensure that the joyful reunion never takes place. Up soon!] **


	34. Chapter 26 - Instance of Life and Death

**Chapter 26 – Instances of Life and of Death**

_Themyscira – The Capital – Months Later_

Princess Diana awoke with the birds' songs outside her open window. The gentle ocean breeze wafted in with their pleasant sounds, and fluttered the light draperies in her chambers. Although the sun was not yet completely over the horizon, she could already hear the calls of the Amazons in the streets below the Palace.

Another day on Themyscira, another day closer to her reunion with Clark, and the birth she both anticipated and feared.

Diana arose carefully from her bed, mindful of her big belly. She had not swelled as big as she thought she might, but she felt plenty large enough. Naked, she walked to the large oval mirror by her dressing table, where it amply revealed her supersized proportions. All things given, she thought, she looked like she'd swallowed an only medium-sized beach ball. She examined herself from several angles, marveling at the physical change in her. There was a little swelling in her ankles, but otherwise pregnancy made few changes, something she knew to be grateful for, compared to what most other women had to endure.

It will not be long now, she thought, perhaps only a few weeks at the most. That meant Clark would be returning from the north soon, perhaps any day now. The thought cheered her up immensely. There had been no recurrence of the nightmarish dream she'd had months before, it was mostly forgotten.

In a good mood, Diana picked up her _xiphos_ and began a basic workout routine. A condition like pregnancy was no excuse to stop martial exercise, a belief shared by all Amazons. She did this practice every morning, whether in Themyscira or Man's World.

Upon hearing the sounds that Diana was up and about, the Bodyguard Selene entered her room and bowed dutifully.

"Good morning, my Lady. Shall I fetch your white robe and cloak?"

"My ritual clothes?" Diana stopped and looked at her Guardswoman attendant, puzzled. "What for?"

Selene gave the Amazon Princess a slightly reproachful look. "For your visit to the Sybil. Today is the day you agreed to pay respects to her and hear her prophesy."

Diana sighed. Yes that was right; after weeks of her mother pestering her to go and see Menalippe, she'd finally agreed, if only to cease her mouth.

"My Lady has not forgotten?"

"No, no I haven't. Very well, fetch my clothes. I will go see her and get it over with."

From a sandalwood chest in the corner Selene retrieved the plain white garments which represented purity, considered the proper attire when visiting the Sybil and conducting religious rites.

"The Sybil possesses the ability to read omens and foresee the future. It is good for you to visit her and hear her prediction for your child's future. These are important things."

"You know I respect the Sybil, Selene. I only wonder how effective her prophecies can be. You know she's not always right."

"That is Man's World's thinking," Selene shook her head. "They have forsaken the gods and nature and instead venerate machines in hopes that technology will save them. You have said so yourself."

"That is partly true," Diana murmured, allowing Selene to attend her. She didn't say she liked and used a lot of those machines herself. "But there are many good things also. It isn't all terrible."

Once clad in her plain white robe, Diana sat down before the mirror so Selene could dress her hair.

"Yes, m'Lady, you've told me many stories about Man's World, and I've heard the same from Vanessa. It sounds much too fast-paced and loud for my liking. All your television and cars and flying ships…however did you manage to sleep with all that mechanical noise?"

Diana laughed. "You get used to it after awhile!"

"Your mother often worried about you in Man's World," Selene went on thoughtfully, as she braided the Princess' long black tresses. "Sometimes I would see her staring out to sea for hours, and hear her talk aloud, wondering if you were all right, if you'd been hurt or given offense."

Diana glanced at her attendant's reflection in the mirror, wondering what she was getting at.

"She knew I could take care of myself. She had no cause to be worried!"

"Only because she had visited the Sybil, and was reassured of your well-being in that impious land; after Menalippe had given her reassurances, she was able to fully relax."

"Selene, what are you trying to tell me?"

Selene shrugged as she finished Diana's hair, and set in her tiara. "Your mother wishes to accompany you to the Sybil's Cave."

Diana groaned, and stood up. "Must she follow me everywhere? Does she think I will run away again?"

It was true Hippolyta was not exactly pleased by Diana's trip up north to see her husband; Diana had only shrugged and said, "I just wanted to see how he was doing. He is doing_ just fine, _Mother. You should be happy!" Hippolyta's only response was to keep an even closer eye on her daughter, sometimes popping up when Diana didn't expect it. No doubt she will be hovering over me during the entire birth-travail, Diana thought.

"She only wants assurance from Menalippe that your daughter will be blessed by the Gods."

"Selene," Diana said firmly. "You know as well as I do that the Gods care not one whit for humanity! Whatever Menalippe says or doesn't say – if she's even sober, that is! – will have nothing to do with how my daughter lives her life. She can make her own way in the world with or without their help."

"Oh, Princess," Selene shook her head in consternation. If anyone other Amazon had said what Diana did, she would be censured for certain! "You should have more respect for the Gods."

"Now you are sounding like my mother."

Selene bowed her head. "I mean no disrespect, Princess. But the Gods are the Gods. We should respect them and heed their advice, whenever they choose to impart it."

Diana sighed inwardly. Selene was like all her sisters, rather superstitious and tied to tradition without thinking to question it. Was she once that way too? She found she couldn't remember, and that bothered her. Had Man's World really changed her that much?

"I do respect tradition, Selene," Diana replied. _I just don't feel bound by it anymore._

Instead she added, "I will go the Sybil and perform all the proper rites, do not fear."

Selene nodded sagely. "Good, that's as it should be."

Just then Hippolyta walked in, dressed identically in a white robe, a fold of it draped over her head. Both Selene and Diana bowed deeply.

"My little moon and stars!" the Queen of the Amazons exclaimed, embraced Diana when she rose. "Not so little anymore, eh? I'm glad to see you are ready for our visit."

"Of course, Mother. How could I forget?" Inwardly she thanked Selene for the reminder.

"Then let us be off."

Hippolyta and Diana left the Palace, descended down into the winding streets surrounding the great building. They would travel without attendants, on foot, to the shrine, according to the proper form. The Amazons in the street of course recognized them, and either bowed or hailed both their Queen and Princess as they passed. Diana saw how her sisters would surreptitiously glance at her belly, speculation rife on their faces. She knew what they were thinking and it made her feel self-conscious.

Just before they left the city's environs, they encountered a party of four Amazons. The Queen stopped and raised her hand.

"Greetings, sisters!" Hippolyta said warmly. "May the light of Gaia shine upon you!"

For a moment Diana stood nonplussed, then she realized the Amazons were the visitors from Man's World! They all looked stunning but foremost among them was Lois; Diana hardly recognized her. Like her companions, she was dressed in a rich _peplos_ of white cotton bordered with gold thread, her hair piled up like Diana's in the Amazon style. She would easily pass for any Amazon on Themyscira, until she opened her mouth; she still spoke with a distinctly Metropolis accent.

"Blessings also upon you, your Majesty," Lois said, bowing in return. "And upon the Princess Diana!"

Lois' eye caught Diana's as her head rose and she knew that look instantly. The one that said, _I'm onto a scoop, and you're in my sights! _Diana had heard she was quite inquisitive, exploring every nook and cranny of the Capital. Diana had no doubt what she was up to, she was still looking for Clark. She sometimes wondered if she should just blurt out the truth to her, but she thought Clark wouldn't like it.

"Lois," Diana said as casually as she could. "You look wonderful. All of you do."

"They are to undergo the Iron Rite tomorrow," Hippolyta said proudly. "Then, they will truly be Amazons, and our full sisters."

Diana nodded, smiling. "I'm so happy all of you made it through the training! You must be looking forward to the day."

"You bet," Lois said cheerfully. "I'm sure that _all_ sorts of secrets will be revealed," She turned her look on Diana. "We can finally talk together as sisters!"

Diana recognized that tone of Lois', and she tried to keep her poker-face. Continued exposure to the Rope of Hestia made the wielder incapable of deceit, even when not holding it!

"I'm sure you will learn much," Diana replied, then added in a low voice. "But you must not believe everything you see, even during the Iron Rite."

Before Lois could ask what she meant by that, Hippolyta spoke up.

"We are on our way to the Sybil. Once you are consecrated, you must visit with her also."

"Um, sure, your Majesty," Shaniqua laughed nervously. In Man's World she sang in the gospel choir of her AME church - if her pastor could see her now! "That should be, um, interesting."

"My mother and I must be on our way," Diana said quickly, eager to skip Lois' inquisitive look. "We will be present for the Iron Rite."

Lois and her friends bowed as the royal couple departed. Alicia glanced sharply at Lois.

"Why didn't you just straight up ask who's the baby daddy? You might as well have!"

"Oh, that's no fun that way," Lois said. "I have other ways of getting to the truth, and I don't need a lasso."

Maggie shook her head. "Oh, you're going to get us in trouble!"

"We're already in trouble!" Shaniqua exclaimed. "This Iron Rite...you sure we don't have to do no weird stuff?"

Alicia shrugged. "All I've heard is that there's a bunch of music and dancing - I don't know, maybe you have to dance naked or something - and they give you some kind of hallucinogenic drink."

"Then what happens?"

"How the heck should I know?" Alicia nodded at Lois. "_She's_ the reporter! Ask her!"

"Well, Lois?"

"I don't know either," Lois murmured, still looking after Wonder Woman and her mother. "But something's up. I guess we'll know after tomorrow."

The long rocky trail up to the Sybil's cavern took some time to walk, and for a long while Diana and Hippolyta were alone together. Diana feared her mother would use the time to lecture her about her latest misdeed, but to her surprise, she seemed rather (unusually) quiet and pleasant. But she knew what was going to come. Her mother never changed.

"I remember when I was big with you in my belly," Hippolyta said reminiscently. "You kicked all the time, as if impatient to be out and getting in trouble! I could hardly sleep for it."

"_I_ sleep very well, Mother," Diana couldn't help a dig. "Kal's child hardly disturbs me."

"Yes, perhaps that is well," Even the mention of Kal did not seem to alter her mother's mellow mood today. "Have you given any thought as to what you will do after the birth?"

"I…well..not much, actually," Diana muttered, a bit taken aback. "At first Clark and I were thinking of raising the child in Smallville, until he lost the farm. At the moment, we do not have anywhere to live, other than his Fortress in the Arctic."

"I see. You will not consider raising the child here?"

"If it is a daughter…perhaps that is one option," Diana hesitated. "If not, then Clark and I will have to talk about it. There is still a possibility we could move back to Metropolis..."

"'Talk about it,'" Hippolyta repeated. Her face was unreadable as she walked alongside her daughter. "Diana, you know our custom as well as I. You have known of the Amazon Way since you were of age to know."

"You know I never agreed with it," Diana said in a low voice. "Neither with that, nor with what our sisters do."

"It is our tradition."

"Then the tradition is wrong! Being 'tradition' doesn't make it right."

Hippolyta looked at her daughter, her face as quiet and ominous as a thundercloud on the far horizon.

"Have you told him?"

"No. He does not know."

"I am glad to hear that you have not blabbed all of our secrets to men, but, why haven't you told him?" Hippolyta looked away again, up at the looming hillside before them. "Because you fear his reaction? That he will despise you for who and what you are?"

"No…because I am ashamed," Diana replied bluntly. "That is why I never told him."

"Ashamed," Hippolyta said softly. "I knew this would happen once you left this Island. Man's World has taught you to be ashamed of your own people."

"No, I am ashamed that we murder helpless people, and children!" Diana clenched her fist, feeling the old anger seep into her voice. "It is not right!"

"We do not force ourselves on men, you know that! Our sisters only offer themselves, and men simply do as their nature dictates."

"And if they resist you murder them anyway! Isn't that what you tried to do with the King of Alar? The reason why he hates our people?" Diana accused.

"You've been listening to Selene's stories again," Hippolyta brushed off Diana's indignation. "He is of no matter, he can do nothing. Your man, however," she added ominously. "I would not like to see him interfere with our customs."

Diana clenched her fists in vexation. "What do you mean, Mother?"

"Do not be dense, child! You know very well what we must do with male children!"

"Do not call me a child!" Diana shouted. "I will not allow that! I told Clark he would see his baby, whether it be boy or girl. Neither you nor your henchwomen will prevent that!"

"Lower your voice, you are in the presence of the Gods," Hippolyta shushed angrily.

"They can't hear us," Diana muttered, but she did so, seeing that they had entered the columned path directly leading to the grotto where the Sybil resided. The marble busts of the Olympian deities stared down at them as they passed. When she had been brought her as a child they had always frightened her with their cold stone stares; now, she just saw a row of unimpressive sculptures with pale and faded expressions. She wondered why she even bothered to come here.

"Menalippe can, she is expecting us."

Diana looked around but there was no one about. "I do not hear or see anything."

"Perhaps she is back in the recesses of the cave."

Hippolyta and Diana finally arrived at the mouth of the cave. To their surprise, the torches that were usually lit at the entranceway were out. They could hear the sound of the ocean beyond the cliff, but no greeting came. The silence was unusual – the Sybil always knew when someone approached her cave.

"Where is she?" Diana wondered. "Menalippe?" She called out. They paused, but still heard nothing.

"Wait here," Hippolyta ordered, in a voice that brooked no argument. Unwillingly, Diana waited while her mother lit a torch and descended into the cave. No doubt, Menalippe was passed out drunk, not an unusual occurrence. She thought of all the other things she could be doing this morning…

A scream came from the depths of the cave, driving all Diana's thoughts away.

"Mother? _Mother_!"

Despite her bulk, Diana rushed into the cave, following the dim illumination. She found her mother bent over Menalippe, who lay sprawled on the ground beneath the flat stone altar where she read the omens.

"Menalippe!" Diana gasped, rushing to her mother's side. She saw the Sybil's wide staring eyes, her mouth open in a frozen, dreadful-looking rictus. Dried vomit and spots of blood had splattered over her clothes. Her body was trembling faintly as if in seizure. "What is wrong with her?"

"I do not know," Hippolyta's voice was tight with alarm "She has a pulse but very faint."

"Give her to me, I'll take her to Cyanna!"

"Can you fly in your condition?" Hippolyta asked worriedly.

"I can!"

"Then go quickly!"

Diana easily picked up the comatose woman and rushed out of the cave. Hippolyta heard the whoosh of air as her daughter took to the air. She stood up and held her arms tightly. Fear coursed through her body. She had not screamed because of seeing Menalippe unconscious…but upon seeing what she had scrawled on the top of the altar, in her own blood. Hippolyta raised the torch again, to make certain she had seen it correctly.

**DOOM**.

Before they arrived, the Sybil must have gone into one of her trances, and whatever she had seen caused her to scrawl this one word on the altar. Then she had collapsed. There could be no worse omen than that, Hippolyta thought. It could only mean one thing. The prophecy was coming true, and it had something to do with Diana's child. This one-word response told the Amazon Queen what she needed to know, and what course of action she must take.

With the hem of her robe, Hippolyta rubbed the scrawl off, staining her pristine cloth. But the mark was gone at least, she would be the only one to see it. She turned and hurried out of the cave, leaving the torch to burn itself out in the darkness.

When Hippolyta returned to the Palace, she was greeted by a somber High Council, Cyanna among them. She knew it could only mean one thing.

"Menalippe?" Hippolyta whispered.

The chief healer shook her head. "Diana brought her to me quickly, but it was too late. She is now with the Gods."

Hippolyta felt an intense pang of grief. Menalippe had been with them since the beginning, it had been she who had prophesied the way to the island. She nodded, forced her sadness aside, for now.

"Where is Diana?"

"In her chambers. She was also much shaken, but she is well…"

"Why?" Hippolyta demanded. "What did Menalippe die of?"

"I…do not know, yet," Cyanna was confused, sounded troubled. "I must perform a full autopsy."

Mara shook her head in dismay. "I always thought she would die of the drink!"

"No. Whatever it was, it caused her heart to stop, but it was not that."

Kwaian shuddered. "It looked like she'd died of fright. Hippolyta, did she say anything at all?"

Hippolyta pulled her cloak tighter. "She said nothing, but she gave us a final warning."

When Hippolyta told them what Menalippe had written on the altar, they all looked stunned and frightened.

"We must...we must search for someone to replace her," Eurydike said. "We cannot be without a Sybil at this time. We must know more."

"What of the Iron Rite?" Philippus asked. "Shall we proceed?"

Hippolyta nodded. "Yes, we must, in her memory. No word of how she died, or what she wrote, must leave this chamber. For now, we will only give out that Menalippe died of natural causes. It may even be true. Now, go to your chambers to grieve, my sisters," Hippolyta said quietly. "We will meet again soon."

The Council members bowed and filed out of her chamber.

"Philippus," Hippolyta said. "Stay behind. We have matters to discuss."

The general turned, and nodded slowly, seeing the look on her Queen's face. Laodice was the last to leave and saw the two talking softly together. She did not need to linger to know what they were talking about. She pursued her lips in a contented smile, and closed the door.

* * *

_Northern Themyscira_

In the big field between the barn and Dierdre's farmhouse, Clark pushed the wooden plow he'd designed, from remembered lessons in history class, through the rich, dark soil. He'd hitched it behind the horse Boudicaa had given him, and together they were tilling the soil in preparation for planting the school's first crop. Krypto, the white mongrel dog that hung around Dierdre's house, followed along playfully, snapping at butterflies.

_If Pa could see me now!_ Clark thought. _Farming the old fashioned way, medieval-style!_

For Clark, this was very slow work, but it would be something the Amazon children could do easily, which was the point. The oldest kids, Halkyone and Isolde, were watching how he did it, while the second oldest girls, Zanthippe and Megalia, helped scatter the seeds into the furrows. Soon, if everything went well – and Clark was sure they would, given this island's ideal climate – fresh vegetables would soon be on the children's table.

The other girls played with Krypto as he finished up the last row. "You make it look so easy, Kal!" Kori shouted. "You are not even sweating!"

Clark laughed. "I rarely sweat!"

Dierdre, the heavyset Getai matron and teacher, stepped outside the house, wiping her hands on a cloth.

"Girls," she shouted. "Go in and clean up, it's time for dinner."

Clark unhitched Horse (he couldn't decide on a name so he just called him Horse) while the girls reluctantly ran inside. To his surprise, instead of ignoring him as she usually did, she came up to him and held out to him a pitcher of cold water.

"Yer welcome to join us at our table, but be sure ye clean yerself up first, I don't want ye trackin' the dirt into me clean house," she sternly said.

"Thank you," Clark wondered what the special occasion was. He took a deep drink. The water here on Themyscira was the best well-water he'd ever tasted.

As if guessing his mind, Dierdre replied,

"Seein' as ye might not be with us for much longer, ye might as well come in. All the bairns wanted it. They took a _vote_." Dierdre sounded amazed at the thought.

"Was it unanimous?"

"One abstainin'," Dierdre grunted and stomped off. Clark grinned, knowing who that vote came from!

Dinner was very enjoyable, if a bit surprising to Clark - he noted that Dierdre served the same food to the kids as she did to him. Not that it was bad, but he thought he could be a better cook - all those years of bachelorhood had given him some culinary skills.

"If you don't mind Dierdre, I can take over some cooking duties," he gently hinted.

The girls goggled at him. "Can men really cook?" Isolde asked doubtfully.

"All the time! There are famous chefs who are men."

Dierdre only shrugged. She didn't quite seem her usual boisterous and grumpy self, another surprise.

"If ye want. Ye'll only be here a few more days, I believe."

Clark's heart leapt, then he saw the looks on the girls' faces. They looked distinctly glum.

"Already?" Iocasta sniffled. "But you just got here!"

"Why can't you stay?"

For a moment it looked as if Dierdre would reply, but she didn't, so Clark answered.

"I have to go back to the Palace. My wife is waiting for me."

"You mean the Princess?"

"Did she have the baby yet?"

Clark smiled. "Not yet! But I want to be there when she does!"

"Why?"

"Erm...because that's what fathers do," Clark hadn't quite expected the conversation to take this direction. The little girls looked exchanged confused looks with one another. Did they even know the word 'father' Clark wondered?

Maia stared with wide eyes at Clark. "So you can kill the baby if it is a girl?"

Clark nearly choked on his glass of milk. He stared at her but she'd asked that question with all the innocence of a seven-year-old, which she was.

"No! No...of course not," Clark shot a glance towards Dierdre. Did she teach the kids this stuff? But her back was to him, tidying up the kitchen things, as if she hadn't heard. "Of course I don't want to kill the baby. Fathers love their children just as much as mothers do." Clark explained as gently as he could.

"But only if it is a boy baby, right Kal?"

Clark shook his head. Where the hell did they get this? "No, I would love the baby no matter what."

Halkyone stirred her soup, staring down at it sadly. "I had a baby brother once."

Clark froze again. Had he heard her right? "A brother? What happened to him?"

"I don't know. He just went away."

"Where?" Clark pressed. The other kids had gone quiet.

Halkyone shrugged.

"Just away."

Before Clark could ask anything else, Dierdre was suddenly there.

"That's enough botherin' 'im for tonight, he has a lot of work to do before he goes home! Now tidy and wash up, and off to bed with ye!"

With much protesting and clatter the girls did as they were told. Dierdre and Clark waited there, silently until they were alone. He took a deep breath.

"Is that what you teach?" Clark asked mildly. "That fathers kill their kids and hate girls?"

"You cannae deny it does not happen in Man's World," Dierdre's voice was quiet. "I may not know much, bein' up here in the north, but I do know...some things."

"_Some_ things!" Clark stared at her, angry now. "Shouldn't these kids have a right to know the truth? That men can be good people too?"

"For what reason?" Dierdre shook her head. "If they are blessed, they will never set foot off this island."

"And never get a chance to see the truth for themselves? To grow? To know there's a world out there?"

"You knew what we were like when ye came here," Dierdre said. "What our ways are. I admit, they are hard ways, but that is how we live."

"But you've seen me now and so have these children! They will know that what you teach is a lie!"

Dierdre stiffened, but she kept her voice mild.

"It changes nothing. Sometimes, we rescue a wolf cub. The cub is playful and harmless, but when it grows to be big, we cannae keep it, and it must be released to the wild, because it becomes dangerous, even to its carers. Even a child knows this."

"But I'm not a wild animal!"

"No. Yer ten times more dangerous," Dierdre said quietly. "Ye're a man. Not even a human man. Ye frighten people just bein' who ye are. I'm sure ye know that already."

"Yes, I do," Clark pushed his chair back and stood up, frustrated. He turned and faced Dierdre. "Be straight with me - after everything I've done here, all I've done, are you still scared of me?" He had known that Dierdre's bluff act was just that, something to save face before the children.

Dierdre stared up at him, perhaps the first time she really looked him in the eye. Long seconds passed.

"No," she finally said. "Not anymore. I admit that does surprise me."

"There, you see?" Clark pressed. "The children aren't scared of me. Doesn't that show that there's nothing to be frightened of?"

Dierdre shook her head. "Man, ye may still be the greatest fool creature this side of Themyscira! We may not be afraid of ye, anymore, but that in itself...aye, that's something to fear. Maybe not by me, but our sisters. What ye bring here to our Island."

The Getai picked up the last of the dishes. "Heed me advice, man. Once ye're reunited with the Princess, leave this Island, with her. Ye'll be happier that way, I swear it."

Clark slowly walked to the door as Dierdre continued her cleaning. As he opened the door he paused and looked back.

"What happened to Halkyone's baby brother?" Clark asked quietly

Dierdre's hands hovered between the table and the sink.

"There never was a baby brother," Dierdre said harshly. "She be too young to remember something like that. She was mistaken."

Clark watched Dierdre disappear back behind the kitchen, then he went outside into the darkness, shutting the door behind him

* * *

_Themyscira - The Capital_

Vanessa hummed to herself as she hitched the horses to the royal cart. She was excited that it was time to go back north and fetch Superman back from the Getai. It would be a relief to take another trip, a break from the books in the Library and her research. She was still fascinated by the early stories of the Amazons she had found, and was trying to hunt down more. The story of Cassilda was more gripping than she expected, and she had found a few more materials from the mysterious writer who had penned the original work she'd found, which she still was not able to relocate. Still she had her notes. She supposed that eventually she would approach the other Amazons to ask about the story's authenticity. It seemed that there was a prophecy connected to it, the type of apocalyptic doomsday type that Vanessa had similarly studied in her comparative religions classes. She had hoped to eventually talk to Menalippe herself, but with her unexpected death that vital link to the past was lost. Everyone was saddened by her passing, so Vanessa was looking forward to leaving gloom of the city for awhile.

Before she could toss in her gear she turned and saw Illythia behind her, dressed likewise for traveling, in her helmet and cloak.

"I am to go to the North to retrieve the man Kal back to the Capital," the blonde Amazon said pre-emptorily. "This is my duty now. You may go return your studies in the library." She added mockingly.

"What?" Vanessa said, confused. "No one told me this."

"Well, now you are told," Illythia smirked "Do you have a problem?"

"But Superman – Kal – is expecting _me_."

"My orders are from General Philippus herself," Illythia lifted her chin. "If you wish to question them, you may ask her yourself. She is right over there."

She was, right by the stables. To Vanessa's dismay, the general heard the argument and came over.

"Is there a problem?" Philippus asked. The tone of her voice implied that there'd better not be one.

"Uh, I was just, um, wondering why Illythia was going North," Vanessa said nervously. "I thought that was my duty."

"You are a Bodyguard and do the duties you are assigned. I have assigned Illythia to this task. You are to work with our sisters from Man's World now." Philippus said curtly.

Vanessa did not want to argue with the Amazon General, who could easily snap her spine with one hand and make a daiquiri with the other. Reluctantly, she handed over the reins to Illythia, who smugly mounted the wagon. As she drove off, she could have swore that the two shared some knowing look. There was definitely something going on, Vanessa thought, but who could she share her concerns with? Then she remembered the visitors. Yes, there was one sister she could confide in.

The royal cart rolled on; just outside the Capital, Illythia made a slight detour, to a small blockhouse used as a way-station before entering the city. She pulled up and waited, but not long.

Four heavily armed Amazon riders appeared on fast horses, all whom Illythia recognized as former members of the Bodyguard. All were directly under Philippus' command, but for this mission they were dressed as ordinary Amazon warriors without markings of rank or affiliation. One had a fearsome scar across her chest.

Illythia raised her hand in greeting. "Herodias, Apollonia, Nike, Melite. Blessings of Black Persephone."

The Amazons returned the code greeting.

"We have the weapons from the Sacred Armory," Apollonia reported. "They're concealed in the blockhouse. I shall fetch them."

"Very good," Illythia nodded. "I've just come from General Philippus. Our orders are to detain the dog Kal-el in the cavern beneath the Cliff of the Western Gate. There are chains there which were constructed to restrain even a Titan. He will be held there, for now."

"Why do we not just kill him?" Herodias asked. "Surely it would be the safest course?"

"The Queen does not wish it…yet," Illythia explained, though her tone suggested she did not agree. "It depends on whether or not the Princess bears a daughter. If not she wants him out of the way, so he cannot interfere with our custom."

"How shall we take him?" Nike asked. Her head was shaved bald and ritually scarred, a mark of her devotion to the Black Persephone.

"He expects to be fetched from the north in this conveyance so he will suspect nothing. After we leave the land of the Getai that is when we shall strike. Meet me before the fifth milestone. You will disguise yourselves as the Queen's Bodyguard, he won't suspect anything out of the ordinary, he will think you are sent by the Queen. If we move swiftly, he will have no chance against us, now that we have the Ropes of Harmodias and the Club of Herakles."

All the Amazons nodded. "We understand and obey."

Illythia looked at all of them. "You must not show the slightest bit of fear or of excitement. He will sense a racing heartbeat and increased respiration. You must be calm."

Herodias stared coldly at her. "We are Amazons and we fear no man, even if he is an alien demon. We will conceal our intent, have no doubt."

"Good. Then let us go with Hecate's blessing!"

Illythia flicked the whip over the horses while the other Amazons rode off in another direction.

* * *

_Northern Themyscira - Several Days Later_

Clark knew that any day now Vanessa Kapatelis would arrive to take him back to the Palace. His forebodings stirred by the talk with Dierdre had come to be replaced with anxious anticipation, and excitement. It took all his self-control not to just up and fly back to the Palace right now, but if truth were told, he would miss the kids, and Krypto. The kids caught his mood and were excited for him. Right now, Clark thought, nothing could shake his good mood. He felt like he was friendly towards everyone, even the annoying Getai. When Dierdre came to bring him his lunch he even hugged and planted a kiss on her ear, while the kids giggled and Dierdre pretended to be gravely offended.

"Can we come and visit you in the Capital, Kal?" Iocasta asked.

"You can come and visit me in Man's World!" Clark said while Dierdre scowled. "If Dierdre will let you."

"The Queen let the Princess go," she muttered. "One be enough."

"Look" Halkyone pointed. "Someone is coming!"

Clark jumped up. He could see the wagon coming down the path, with its rider clad in the Queen's livery, the helmet pulled down on her face. His heart leapt - it was here!

Krypto snarled and began barking. Clark had to hush him.

"Are you going now, Kal?" Kori said sadly as the girls gathered round.

Clark nodded. "It's time. I will miss you girls. Be sure to keep up with the newspaper!"

"We will, Kal! But how will we send you issues in Man's World?"

Clark grinned. "I'm sure you'll find a way!"

The wagon drew closer, and Krypto only kept barking, until finally Dierdre had to take him inside. As she did so, the wagon finally pulled up as the girls watched.

"Nessie!" Clark waved his arm excitedly. "Long time no see! How is-?"

Then the Amazon removed her helmet, and instead of red curls, a stream of blonde locks poured out. The woman smiled at him innocently.

"Oh…Illythia," Clark tried to conceal the disappointment and surprise in his voice. This was the last person he'd expected (and the last person he really wanted to be alone with, of anyone on this Island). "I, ah, wasn't expecting you, I thought Vanessa Kapatelis was coming to get me?"

"She is preoccupied at the moment with her studies, so she asked if I could go in her place," Illythia replied easily. "Of course I am always willing to help a sister even if she is from Man's World."

"That's nice, I guess," Clark said. That didn't sound like Vanessa. But did it matter? He was going back to the Palace and to his Diana. Any way he could get there he'd take!

"The Queen thanks you for your care for this...man," Illythia announced loftily to the Getai matron. "You see, Kal-el, we all have our uses."

He turned to Dierdre, who was eyeing the blonde Amazon with unconcealed disdain and suspicion.

"Thank you Dierdre," Clark said sincerely. "I will miss you and the girls, I mean it."

The Getai matron nodded. "I know ye do."

Clark held out his hand. "In my world, we shake hands. Will you honor me with shaking mine?"

Dierdre eyed his outstretched hand doubtfully, as if he'd forgotten to wash after using the urinal, but she did. She seemed a bit surprised at herself, after all.

"Blessings go with ye, Kal," Dierdre said. It was the first time she had used his name. "And...remember what I said."

Clark waved goodbye to the girls, who waved back. Then he climbed into the wagon and soon they rode off, out of sight.

"Will we see Kal again, Dierdre?" Kori asked.

"No...I do not think so," the stout old matron replied quietly. Kori looked up, wondering at the sad tone in her teacher's voice. "No, we shall not see him again. But...I do hope you will remember what he taught you girls."

Kori nodded, looking back after the wagon, although she could not see it. "I will, Dierdre," she said. "I promise."

_Southern Themyscira_

To Clark's relief, Illythia seemed quite pleasant and well-behaved during the journey back. He supposed that after his time with the Getai, she seemed quite moderate. But he still would have preferred Vanessa's company. Fortunately she didn't make any more passes at him. She seemed more cool to him, perhaps his novelty had worn off.

"What has happened since I've been gone?" Clark asked.

Illythia shrugged. "Not much. The Princess has been well and attending to her duties, as has the Queen. Life goes on on our little Island, as it always has."

"Oh. What about the...the visitors?"

Illythia smirked again. "They are still there. They successfully passed the Iron Rite, even your "friend" Lois Lane. They are full Amazons now."

"That's...nice, I suppose."

That was about the depth of their conversation; most of the time was passed in silence or Illythia humming some Themysciran tune. Clark was surprised that Lois and the others were still there, but perhaps it wouldn't be too much of a problem, if he could just stay in the Palace with Diana. It must be very soon that Diana would go into labor, and as soon as she was ready, they would leave...

Clark was brought out of his reverie by the sound of horsewomen approaching. Two riders coming up on them from the west. Illythia seemed unconcerned at their approach.

"We have visitors," Clark said. They were unarmed, he noticed. Illythia only shrugged again. Perhaps they just heard he was coming, and were curious. One of them had a large scar across her front and he wondered how she got that. He noticed that some Amazons did have scars, perhaps they didn't heal that easily. He especially noticed the scars some of them had on their breasts.

Abruptly, Batman's question of months ago popped into his head. _Does Diana have any scars?_

No, Diana didn't have any, due to her superhuman healing properties, but the other Amazons did. What did they mean? Did it have anything to do with childbirth? He wondered.

"Greetings sisters," Illythia said as the riders approached. "This is the man Kal-el."

The one with the scar nodded, her face a mask of composed serenity. "Yes, we have heard of him. My name is Herodias and my companion's name is Melite. May we ask questions of you, Kal-el?"

Clark was impatient to get back to the Palace, but he nodded, not wanting to seem unfriendly. "Sure. What do you want to know?"

"I have heard that you are not a human man. However, I believe that all men are the same, whether gods or mortals. What say you to that?"

Clark was puzzled for a moment, then he suddenly felt something cinch tightly around his neck and jerk him backwards clean off the wagon. The force would have broken an ordinary human's neck but he was Kryptonian. Choking and bewildered he grabbed at the rope, his fingers scrabbling at something incredibly tough and sinuous. he saw it resembled Diana's lasso, only it's color was silver, and it vibrated in his hand like it was alive. It felt like it weighed so much more, it was certainly no ordinary rope.

He spun around, seeing Illythia holding the other end, all amusement gone from her face, in its place was a fierce determination, and she was grinning madly, enjoying the fight. He realized that she had planned all this from the beginning. What was she about?

"Illythia!" He shouted angrily. "Stop this!"

He yanked on the cord and despite the silver lasso's power nearly pulled the blonde Amazon off her feet. He tried to unhook it from around his throat when he heard multiple cracks in the air and his arm was pulled away, and something at his left ankle yanked him off his feet, and he stumbled awkwardly feeling the unfamiliar pain in his extremities. He saw that the other two Amazons had dismounted and were wielding long black whips. At once he knew he was being attacked by magicked weapons. His hearing picked up the sound of two other horsewomen galloping towards him. This was no trick, like what the Getai had pulled on him, he was being attacked.

His eyes blazed, but then he felt something thrown over his head, like a hood. It also reeked of magick, and he suddenly realized not only could he not see, he could not burn his way through the cloth. He choked as the rope tightened around his neck.

In a millisecond the Amazons were on him, securing his arms behind his back with the silver Lasso. Furious, he struggled to rise, to fly off, but somehow this rope's power prevented him by immobilizing him. He felt as if he was suffocating under the weight of an entire planet. He barely felt or heard the curses and blows the Amazons were raining on him.

He could still hear. He heard one of the Amazons approaching, then he heard Illythia's voice.

"The hood you are wearing is made from the hide of the Nemean Lion. Hippolyta took that and this club from Herakles when she slew him," the haughty Amazon said. "So it should do for you, dog."

Clark's eyes widened, then the thought of his child flashed into his mind, and for the first time he was filled with desperate fear as understanding swept through him.

_They know!_

_"NO!"_

He roared and rushed forward, breaking the grip of the Amazons holding him down, just as the club came down on his temple, and everything went black.

* * *

**[AN: If you liked the Amazons before I'm sure you really love them now XD**

**In the New 52, WW doesn't know what the Amazons do to get babies until Hephaesteus tells her, and reveals that male babies are given to him to be servants in his forge. WW assumes they're his slaves and tries to free them but they tell her they are happy to work for him because he saved them from being killed. I wonder how could she not know all that, she was raised on Themyscira after all! So it does make her look really obtuse, IMO. But I don't work for DC Comics, thank goodness.**

**But how about poor Clark, how's he going to get out of this mess? Will it take a couple of ladies from Man's World? As usual, it's up to Lois to save the day!**

** The Amazons will only have a short while to savor what they "think" is their victory, until the REAL enemy approaches. Next chapter up: Invasion - Coming soon!**

**As always, your review are appreciated!]**


	35. Chapter 27 - Invasion

**Chapter 27 – Invasion**

Consciousness returned to Clark, but he couldn't see anything. For a few confused moments, he thought he was in Bruce's Batcave: he heard dripping water, and he felt himself lying against hard stone, wet and cold, and slimy with algae. His senses suggested he was underground, near the ocean - he could hear the pounding surf.

Unsure, he stretched out his hands, groped for his surroundings but something restrained his movements. Something heavy clanked on his wrists and around his ankles and neck. He was shackled in chains, and also there was something stiff pulled down over his head. It stank of cured leather and prevented him from seeing or using his heat vision.

Memory suddenly crashed back into his mind as violently as a boom tube opening: Illythia and a pack of Amazons attacking him with magicked weapons; before he realized what was happening they had overpowered him and knocked him out cold.

Frantically he tried to pull free of the chains, but to his astonishment they held him secure – they must be magicked as well, and certainly not made of ordinary iron. He couldn't move more than a foot in either direction or stand upright; he was chained fast to the stone wall. His arms were secured to either side of him so he could not reach his head to pull the hood off.

Mocking laughter echoed throughout the cavern, coming from somewhere high above him.

"Not so impressive a god, and hardly even a mortal!"

"Who's there?" Clark shouted. "Illythia? What the hell are you doing?"

It was Illythia's voice for certain. He remembered that she was the one who had used the magick silver lasso on him.

"Just another man - weak and useless. I can hardly imagine why the Queen made such a fuss over you."

"Illythia," Clark took a deep breath, resisting the urge to cuss her out. It wouldn't help and would be counterproductive. "Let me go. I haven't done you any harm, so why are you doing this?"

"To make certain, foolish man, that you don't!" That mocking laughter again, and Clark thought she sounded as mad as Harley Quinn. "You won't be causing any trouble down there in your hole."

"Hippolyta promised me-"

"The Queen promised you would not be harmed or killed and you won't be. You'll just be out of the way while Diana whelps your brat. Then maybe she'll release you to crawl back to Man's World where you belong!"

The mere mention by this madwoman of his and Diana's child sent tendrils of alarm and anger into his heart, and he yelled back at her.

"Where's Diana? You know she won't tolerate this! Once she finds out what you've done I wouldn't want to be you!"

"Oh, really?" Illythia's voice changed from mockery to icy contempt. "Fool, do you really believe a Princess of the Amazons would break thousands of years of tradition for the sake of such as you? She says she regrets her misdeeds in Man's World, I've heard her often enough. Now she wants to redeem her errors. She will not lift a finger to help you."

"You're lying!" Clark shouted.

Illythia ignored him. "If the brat is a girl, she will be made into a proper Amazon, even if she is a halfbreed alien demon. If it is a boy, well, I'm sure you know what we do with _them_," An evil chuckle drifted down to him. "You really should thank us: I have heard that in your world men do not care to be single parents!"

Rage surged through Clark and he yanked at his chains.

"Do you really think these chains can hold me for long?" Clark threatened. "I will break free of this!"

Illythia laughed again. "You cannot break them, dog, those chains were forged by Hephaestus himself! Just in case we needed them, for a creature such as you. Make yourself comfortable, you'll be there for awhile yet. Behave yourself, and your confinement _might_ be tolerable."

He heard footsteps departing. Clark bellowed after her, but to no avail. He was alone in this black cave. With all his strength Clark tugged at the chains, gritting his teeth and bracing his legs, trying again and again. Finally, hours later, he slumped down, exhausted and discouraged, his wrists and ankles chafing and sore.

_Think, Kent_, Clark forced himself to be calm. _Use your brains not just your brawn, like Ma and Pa always taught you._

He considered how Illythia taunted him: he'd heard spite and jealousy in her voice, so he didn't believe a word of what she'd said about his wife. However he had no doubt that the decision to trap him here was Hippolyta's. Illythia didn't have the brains or guts to come up with a plan to attack and trap him. If this was all her idea there could be only one reason for it.

Sick fear filled Clark. If Diana had a male child, he knew Hippolyta would have it taken away, maybe even killed. That was why she wanted him out of the way.

_No_, Clark thought. _Diana wouldn't stand for that. She must not know what her crazy mother's up to._

But a sickening seed of doubt still lay lodged in his heart, and he knew why it was there. It had been planted by all the times Diana avoided telling him of how the Amazons conceived children, or why there were no boys on Themyscira. Clark realized he had blinded himself, just as much as this damned hood over his face, by not asking the tough questions and demanding answers, as he should have done from the beginning.

Now, as a result, his child was in danger, and as for Diana – he couldn't believe she would just stand by and allow their child, no matter what gender, to be slaughtered. But here, on this island, isolated and surrounded by her mother and the rest of the Amazons…could it actually be possible she would even consider it? Clark knew she had no compunction about killing when she believed it to be absolutely necessary. A memory flashed into his mind of how she had beheaded Will Richardson back in Smallville.

_No_, he reassured himself. _I won't believe it, I can't. She must not know, they've deceived her, or will try to._

Clark knew that there was only one way to ensure nothing terrible would happen, and that meant he had to break out of this prison. If the Amazons actually thought he was just some brainless animal, maybe that was a weakness he could turn to his advantage. If only this hood wasn't on his head, perhaps he could burn through the rock, unless that was magicked as well, he couldn't be sure. First, he would have to find a way to get this damned hood off, if he had to chew his way through it with his teeth!

* * *

_Themyscira – One Week Later_

Diana relaxed on the _kline_, reading from a papyrus scroll. It was a short history of the Amazons, written by Vanessa Kapatelis. She'd asked Diana if she would look it over and help correct any mistakes. Diana was no historian, but she really had nothing to do now that the Iron Rite was over (poor Lois! Diana hoped she wasn't too traumatized). It was better than doing nothing, other than waiting for Clark's return any day now. It had to be soon! She was tired of waiting. Anyway, Diana found Vanessa to be a wonderful writer, even better than her mother Julia (who Diana actually found rather dry). She felt as if she was reading her history for the first time.

_The Amazons marched out to meet the army of Herakles on the plain between the ancient city of Themyscira and the Black Sea. Queen Hippolyta, accompanied by her Generals Philippus and Gorgo, was inclined to treat the barbarians (as they saw them) leniently; the Amazons were unaware that Herakles had already planned to take Themyscira through subterfuge rather than siege, an idea provided by King Theseus. Theseus was afraid the Amazons would retaliate for a siege by attacking Athens, which they'd nearly succeeded in taking years before, so his hope was that Herakles would be successful in destroying the Amazon nation._

_A mysterious legend from this period claims that at least one Amazon had foreknowledge of Herakles' plot, through a secret liaison with his lieutenant Aldones, most likely a non-Greek attaché or an observer. According to this account, Cassilda warned Hippolyta of Herakles' plot, only to be rebuffed. In rage, Cassilda fled Themyscira that night, just as Herakles and his men were allowed through the city's gates, and she vowed that Themyscira would be cursed forever. Doom would follow the Amazons wherever they scattered throughout the world._

_In my research I have learned that Cassilda is not a common name among the Amazons, and her story is not to be found in any of the official histories of Paradise Island. But the story of Cassilda does not end there. A second story describes Cassilda's flight, and her subsequent unprovoked murder of a shepherd. The story states that the shepherd was a devotee of an unknown agrarian cult, and that the cult's chief deity subsequently either abducted or took revenge upon Cassilda. One version of this second story has Cassilda returning as a type of supernatural monster wreaking vengeance against the Amazons._

_A third and final story describes Cassilda as the immortal queen of the "cursed" city of Carcosa, dedicated to a deity known as either Assatur, Asrur, or Hastur, possibly the deity of the second legend. This particular legend became the subject of an extremely rare and hard-to-find 19__th__-century French play called "The King in Yellow," which was popular amongst fin-de-siècle occult circles in Europe. This play does not make reference to the Amazons, (the few scholars who are familiar with this play describe it as a transitional story between 19__th__-century Gothic horror and modern weird tales) so it is possibly not related at all to the first two Cassilda legends._

_I believe that the legend of Cassilda is most probably a later and apocryphal addition to the myths surrounding the historical Amazons, perhaps provided as a supernatural reason why the Amazons disappeared from history…_

Diana lifted her eyebrows at this. She certainly never heard this before! She'd have to ask Vanessa where she got all that from. It sounded interesting, if a bit disquieting with its story of renegade Amazons, unknown gods and supernatural vengeance. She too was inclined to think this story was spurious: if her mother had any suspicion of Herakles' deception, she certainly would not have let him inside the city! She wondered why Vanessa included it.

Diana quickly put the scroll aside as Selene walked in, and she asked in excitement:

"Is there any-?"

"No, my Lady," Selene already knew what Diana was going to ask. "No sign of his return."

Diana sighed and lay back in disappointment onto the _kline_. What was taking so long?

"Princess, Lois is here to see you. Shall I tell her you are too tired and send her away?"

"No, I will see her," Diana thought Lois' company actually sounded good, it would be better than moping around anyway. "Send her in."

Selene disappeared and Lois entered Diana chamber, dressed in a short _peplos_ and sandals. She was now wearing the black bracelets all Amazons wore.

"Lois!" Diana stood up and embraced the reporter in the Amazon manner. "You look wonderful!"

"Yes, no thanks to your damned Iron Rite!" Lois complained.

"You did not enjoy it?"

"I wouldn't exactly use the word 'enjoy,'" Lois said frankly. "That was the single worst experience of my entire life…and, well, the-the most powerful, too, I guess."

"I'm not surprised," Diana poured and handed Lois a cup of red wine, and one for herself. "I told you, your life would be changed forever."

"Yeah, no kidding, I think I will need therapy for the rest of my life! Good thing I'm writing a book to pay for the bills."

Lois remembered everything vividly. It began like a celebratory party in the courtyard of the Temple of Artemis, with many Amazons dancing in circles and singing, pounding drums and shaking _sistrums_. Lois and her three companions were given the opportunity to show off their athletic and martial skills, to the cheers and applause of the Amazons. Even Amynta looked proud.

Hippolyta and Diana were seated in their curule chairs of rank, fully dressed in their royal robes. They looked magnificent. After the dancing, both of them rose and approached the visitors. Hippolyta spoke in a loud voice so all could hear.

"Sisters, today we admit four women from Man's World to our number. We do this so that the blood of Amazonia will never perish but endure. Sisters, shall this be so?"

Hundreds of Amazons were there, and they all shouted in the affirmative, so loudly the very ground seemed to shake. Lois and her friends stood there, overawed by the spectacle. Hippolyta solemnly turned to them and addressed each of them in turn.

"Lois. Marguerite. Shaniqua. Alicia. You four now join the ranks of champions! Step forward, kneel and receive the iron."

With butterflies in her stomach Lois hadn't felt since her college graduation, she did so with the others. She saw Diana bring forward the huge double axe of Amazonia which was Hippolyta's personal weapon, which Lois knew was some kind of symbol of state.

"Take this on your tongue, so that no man may say he drew first blood of an Amazon."

Diana stepped forward with the ax to the now-highly nervous women. As she bent down she whispered.

"Touch the edge of the blade with your tongue, just make a small nick, that is all that's needed."

Too nervous now to make a fuss, Lois did so, and she guessed the others felt the same. A deep hush now fell over the crowd as another of the Amazons, someone important from the High Council, Lois thought her name was Laodice, handed Diana a tall golden goblet.

"Now, take the sacred drink, and see our lives through our eyes," Hippolyta intoned, and the drums and _sistrums_ sounded again, performing a more solemn ritualized beat. Lois was already starting to feel dizzy as Diana approached with the goblet. She glanced into it and saw a thick liquid that looked like a foamy latte.

"All you need to do is take a sip," Diana instructed, and then in a voice only the four could hear. "Remember, what you will see and experience is not real, only the past."

Before Lois could think of what she meant, she took a sip. Immediately she felt dizzy, and rather euphoric.

_Wow_, Lois thought, _an instant high!_ Everything was getting a bit swirly, spinning, and she thought she blacked out for just a split-second. When her vision cleared, she realized she was still kneeling in the temple courtyard, but the Amazons were gone. In its place were flames, tall and raging and instead of the beautiful marble temple, its charred pieces were scattered everywhere. Screams and the sounds of running and fighting came to hear - they were frightening. They were the sounds of defeat.

Lois leapt to her feet and stared around her at the horrifying scene. What the _hell_ was going on? What she saw were Amazons, lying prone on the ground, clearly dead, stripped naked, and those who were still alive…what happening all around her…oh my God...

Just then, Lois finally realized, as the Greek hoplites approached her and reached out their bloodstained hands to her, she screamed, realizing just what the Iron Rite was.

In the Iron Rite, one did not just learn the history of the destruction of the Amazon nation…they _lived_ it, through the eyes of sisters past. The betrayal, the violence, and the violation…

"It felt so…so real," Lois muttered, gulping her wine. "Like it was happening to me! It was awful, then, when we – I mean, the Amazons back then – fought back, I could feel that too, the thrill of killing them, those bastards..." She clenched her fists and looked at Diana. "How could you endure all that?"

"Because my mother did, and my sisters," Diana explained simply. "Just telling a story doesn't cut it. Now you know why we have remained isolated here without men for centuries."

Lois nodded. "Much more intense than any movie! Still...you _could_ have warned me!"

"Then it wouldn't be a secret rite, would it?" Diana said, then added firmly. "You know the rite is secret, and even if you put it in your book, Lois, no one would believe you!"

"I can't put mass gang-rape and slaughter in a bestseller, no one wants to read that," Lois muttered, then pushed the horrible memories from her mind, and looked at Diana pointedly. "On the other hand, something else people _would_ want to know-"

Diana sighed. "Yes, Lois, the father is Superman."

Lois blinked. "Oh wow…I mean, wow, that's wonderful! Um...it _is_, right?"

"Oh it is, believe me it was no mistake!" Diana couldn't help but laugh at Lois' startled expression. "Did you think someone else was the father?"

"No! I mean, it makes sense that the two of you would, well, be together."

"We've been 'together' for quite awhile now, Lois. We haven't made it public yet, and," Diana couldn't help a little dig. "No one has found out yet," she added smugly.

Lois colored slightly. "Well, I _have_ heard rumors. But then, there's rumors about everyone in the Justice League! But it does makes sense now."

"What does?"

"I thought I saw someone here, months ago, someone I knew," Lois said accusingly. "It turns out I was right all along!"

Diana paled. "Wait a minute, Lois…"

"Now that we're _sisters_, I think you should be straight with me!" Lois stood up and folded her arms. "I did see a man here didn't I?"

Diana leapt up from her couch. "I don't know what you mean!"

"Clark was here wasn't he? He was here to get the scoop about you and Superman!"

The way Diana stared at her only confirmed Lois' suspicions.

"So where's Clark now? In one of your dungeons? Or did you send him back to Man's World with a black eye?"

"There's no Clark here," Diana said carefully. "Not now, anyway." That part was true at least!

Now it was Lois' turn to grow pale. The idea of Kent returning with his _own_ story, to see print before hers...dammit!

"So, then, where's Superman? He's not here with you is he?" Maybe she could interview him.

Diana relaxed. "No, not here in the Palace."

"But he _is_ here, isn't he? He's somewhere on the Island? Maybe...up North?"

Diana whirled about, eyes wide. "How do you know that!"

Lois smirked. "You told me, just now."

Diana groaned and sat back down on the _kline._

* * *

_Beyond Themyscira_

Fifty nautical miles off the coast of Themyscira the Alarian fleet, consisting of hundreds of sleek black ships, sailed relentlessly towards its destination. Aboard the flagship, by the prow, stood Bruce Wayne, or more properly Batman, since he was now fully clad in his Batsuit, his black cape billowing behind him in the ocean breeze. Although he appeared calm and composed, it didn't match how he felt.

Randolph Carter had announced his intention to invade Themyscira, but Bruce most certainly did not want to be part of an invasion and war, yet there seemed to be no other way for him to get to the island.

"I asked for your help in getting to Themyscira, not to invade it!" Bruce had raged at his relative, but the man was implacable. Even more infuriating, he didn't seem the slightest bit concerned. "I won't be a part of killing innocent people!"

"The Amazons are hardly innocent," Carter replied mildly. "You yourself discovered that. Even in your time, they routinely travel to what they term 'Man's World' to seduce and kill men. Granted, not the most admirable sort of men, but still, it's an outrage. They must be stopped, one way or the other."

"Don't use me as an excuse! What do you want from the Amazons?"

Carter looked at Bruce, and for the first time he saw something mysterious and dark in his relative's eye.

"Yes, that's right. There is something I want. I am not at liberty to discuss it with you just yet. But if it remains with the Amazons, then it poses a distinct danger, not only to our world but to yours too. Trust me on this."

"I will not be part of any killing."

"I'm not asking you to fight, dear boy. My army and Pickman's will do the hard work. Rest assured, my army is disciplined. There will be no rapine or torture, I can promise you that. It would not be true if the situation was reversed and Themyscira was invading Alar!"

That was the best Bruce could manage. Now, as he looked out over the ocean, he only hoped he could find Superman and Wonder Woman quickly, and somehow put a stop to this with their help.

He heard somebody approach him and he turned around. It was Carter.

"We are still a ways yet from Themyscira," Carter said amicably, his hands clasped behind his back and breathing in deeply, as if he was on a cruise around Martha's Vineyard. "We shan't see it for a bit."

"I hope you know what you are doing," Bruce growled. "I've seen Diana fight…"

"Oh yes, your friend, this 'Wonder Woman,'" Carter chuckled. "She sounds most fascinating! I hope I can meet her in person."

"I hope for your sake you don't."

Carter looked at him. "This Amazon who belongs to your 'Justice League?' If she is the noble person you claim she is, how is it she has never told you about the Amazons' unnatural practices?"

"I…don't know, " Batman admitted, looking down at the railing. "She must have her reasons."

Carter shrugged. "In any case, these practices shall be ended after today. Your 'Wonder Woman' can explain her reasons to you in person, once we've captured her."

Batman clenched his fists.

Vizier Titus joined them, along with Namash-Thah, the Alarian General. He was a bald heavyset man who looked a bit like a walrus on two legs, with an enormous handlebar mustache.

"It's time." Titus said

Carter nodded. "Then let's begin."

Batman stared. "Time for what?"

"Watch."

Vizier Titus raised his right hand. He heard a thin humming sound and Bruce saw the digits of his hand extend, then protrude out, longer and longer, until they waved in the air like the antennae of an insect. His eyes closed, and he seemed to be in deep concentration. The clouds above the fleet coalesced, and a fog began forming, becoming thicker and thicker, spreading out around and beyond them, enveloping them in an impenetrable mist.

"This is how we will approach Themyscira without being detected," Carter explained. "Until we are ready to strike, that is. Shouldn't be long."

Bruce stared at Titus and the growing fog. Whatever Titus was, he wasn't human, or completely. The feeling he had of some oncoming doom approaching was incrementally growing stronger, and he couldn't yet tell on whom it would fall.

* * *

_The Palace_

"Kal-el is exploring Themyscira, to keep himself occupied," Diana explained, relieved at least that Lois still hadn't made the connection between Kal and Clark. "Although I expect him back any day now."

"Why doesn't he just fly back?"

"My mother doesn't want him to display his powers of flight," Diana grumbled. "So Vanessa went to fetch him by cart, a most time-consuming business."

Lois was puzzled. "Vanessa? Then Superman's back in the Capital?"

"No, I said she's on her way North."

"Wait...I saw her today, she was hanging out with Alicia and Shaniqua in our barracks."

Diana stared at her. "What? Here? But she was going to drive Clark back."

"Well maybe somebody else went instead?"

Diana sat back, thinking hard. Then, startling Lois, she shouted. "Selene!"

The Bodyguard appeared immediately. "Yes, m'Lady?"

"Vanessa Kapatelis is at the visitors' barracks, go bring her here." Diana ordered.

"Yes, m'Lady."

"Being a Princess has its privileges," Diana said to a still-confused Lois.

"I don't understand what you're getting at."

"Vanessa took Kal up north, she should have been the one to get him."

It didn't take long before Vanessa was ushered into the royal chambers. The red-haired grad student looked to Lois from Diana. "Yes, Princess?"

"Vanessa, what are you doing here?" Diana asked. "I thought you were going to go get Kal!"

"I was ordered to stay back and take care of the visitors."

_Zeus' Cock!_ Diana thought in fury. _Is poor Clark still stuck at Dierdre's farm then?_

"So, when _are_ you going to go?"

"My Lady, Illythia was sent north."

"What?" Diana leapt to her feet, furious. "That snake? There could be no worse choice! When was this?"

Vanessa looked even more nervous, if that was possible. "A week ago!" When she saw Diana's baffled face she protested. "Well, it wasn't my decision!"

"Who made the decision to send Illythia instead of Vanessa?"

"Princess, it was General Philippus." Vanessa stammered.

"What?!"

There were long seconds of ominous silence as Diana stood motionless, thinking. Lois and Vanessa exchanged worried looks.

"There's something wrong, isn't there?" Vanessa said nervously. "Why would she-?"

"Selene!" Diana roared, making both Lois and Vanessa jump, and as the Bodyguard reappeared she snarled. "Bring me Philippus!"

"What is going on?" Lois asked.

"I don't know," Diana growled. "But I'm going to find out."

Diana remained silent while they waited, pacing back and forth, while Lois and Vanessa just looked uncertain. They got the sense something was wrong.

The old General appeared shortly, looking formal and composed. There was none of the familiar warmth about her, Diana noted, and that alone was unsettling.

"My Lady summoned me?"

"Philippus, where is Illythia?"

"My Lady? Illythia is at her duties-"

"Don't play games with me, General!" Diana snapped, coming closer to Philippus. "I want to know-"

To everyone's surprise, Diana abruptly stopped, a strange look flitting over her face, as if she'd forgotten something.

"Wonder Woman?" Lois said, thoroughly bewildered. "Is something-?"

"Aahhhh!"

Diana bent over, one hand going to her stomach, the other reaching out for the _kline_. There was a splashing sound and they all saw a small puddle growing between Diana's feet.

"Oh, _crap!" _Vanessa gasped.

Lois leapt to her feet, nearly elbowed her aside. "Don't just stand there!" She shouted. "Grab some towels!"

"Ohmygod!"

"Don't gape, go grab something! Here, hang onto me, let's sit you down..."

Amidst the fussing, no one noticed the absence of Philippus and Selene.

* * *

Hippolyta was sitting at her writing desk, sorting through stacks of papyri. Eurydike across from her on the _kline_, taking notes from what her Queen was instructing.

"We have four candidates for the Sybil. They must be tested-"

General Philippus rushed in. Hippolyta looked up sharply, she knew it had to be a matter of the utmost importance if even her Master of Horse entered without announcing herself. As she saw her old friend's face, she knew it could only be for one reason.

Hippolyta rose from her chair, quickly. Eurydike did the same. "Is it...Diana?" The Queen gasped.

Philippus nodded. "She has cast out her water."

"But she is still not due for several weeks yet!"

"Babies follow their own schedules, not ours. Now it is only a matter of time."

Hippolyta took a deep breath to steady herself. This was the moment she had long-awaited…and dreaded.

"Send immediately for Cyanna," Hippolyta ordered. "Tell her to prepare the labor bed. I want my daughter attended at all times."

"Yes, Hippolyta. I shall fetch her after leaving here."

When the Queen spoke again it was in a low tone.

"Kal-el?" The Queen asked.

"He is still in the dungeon beneath Western Gate Cliff, secured by our strongest magic. He will cause no problems for us," Philippus paused. "Will you go to the Princess?"

"When the time comes, yes. Until then, ensure that you have all the proper… instruments. As soon as the gender is determined, we must act quickly."

Hippolyta turned and reached for a rectangular box on a shelf behind her. She carefully placed it on her desk and opening the wooden lid she withdrew a long dagger, strange markings etched on its black blade. With both hands, she held it out to Philippus.

"This blade is tempered in magick. Old friend, I trust you will use it swiftly and surely, should it be necessary."

"I will my Lady," Philippus tucked in within her cloak. "And…Diana?"

"Cyanna will prepare a sleeping powder to administer to her in her drinking water. She must not witness the deed. She will be told the baby was a stillborn."

Philippus nodded. "May the Goddess ever protect you, my Queen."

"And you too, my dear friend."

Eurydike looked grimly at Hippolyta once the old general left.

"Hippolyta, Diana will know what you did. You know she will never speak to you again if you do this. She will hate you for the rest of her days."

Hippolyta slowly resumed her seat, picked up her writing stylus. For a long moment she stared down at her papyrus in silence.

"Better she hate me," Hippolyta finally whispered. "I would rather have that, than for Diana to forever be a slave of her husband, then of her son, then her son's sons."

In a different tone of voice, she continued with her previous business, while Eurydike lowered her head.

"The candidates must pass certain tests..."

* * *

From a niche in the walls known to only a few in the Bodyguard, Selene overheard the conversation. She had no doubt as to the import of the words. Selene looked down at her bracelets, earned decades ago in the Iron Rite, and tested in battle.

She had never once ventured off Themyscira to conceive a child. The idea of lying with a man, even for such a vital function as procreation to increase their numbers, filled her with distaste. Her sisters who had done it had laughed and teased her that she was too soft, but it was not that at all. To Selene it seemed…wrong somehow, distasteful at the least, although she would never admit it aloud. Men were foul, she knew, but to lie with them and use them and discard them, it was not something she wanted to do.

When Princess Diana had returned with her man Selene had been confused why she brought him, this Kal-el with her. Selene could have understood if Diana wanted her own baby, even if she left him alive after the act, but to go against tradition, it offended her…at first. Then when she had met Kal-el, talked to him in person, he had not been what she expected at all, and now...

All her life, Selene had followed Amazonian tradition, and never questioned it. It had been her bedrock, her identity. She never desired any other life. Now...

She made her decision.

* * *

Back in her bedroom, Diana gripped the edge of the _kline_, her mind and body in turmoil as she experienced her first gripping contractions. All hopes she had of experiencing a painless childbirth, thanks to her superhuman condition, had promptly vanished like a soap bubble. She had _never_ felt anything like this before! She knew it would only get more intense.

Lois thought Diana looked like someone had given her a good sock in the nose that she actually felt.

"I don't suppose you and Supes went to Lamaze classes," Lois remarked. "Oh well. Vanessa, do the Amazons have anything like an epidural?"

"Umm...uhh..." Vanessa looked more the one in shock if possible. Lois reached over and gave her a good pinch. She yelped.

"Don't flake out on me now, girl!"

"Oh! No...they have herbs, I should see if-"

All that stopped when Selene broke in. She was carrying a traveling cloak.

Diana raised her head and saw the Bodyguard's hand on the hilt of her sword. She tensed. She thought she knew what would come next.

"Princess," Selene said. "You must leave here right now."

"Now?" Lois stared at her. "Are you crazy? She can't go anywhere in her condition!"

Selene ignored her. "Princess, you must…if you want your child to live. Quickly, I know where to go."

* * *

_Themyscira - The Cliff Lookouts_

Ismene, on the second watch, was the first to note the incoming fog. It rolled in, thick and impenetrable, and it puzzled her. It was too early yet for the evening fog to appear.

Her companion, Penelope, joined her, wrapping her red cloak around her.

"Feels chill, eh? What say you and I share a cup of _yourte_ to ward off the cold?"

Ismene shook her head. "I like this not, this fog has an odd feel to it."

Penelope shrugged. "It is only odd weather."

"A lot of odd things have happened recently. Old Menalippe dying so abruptly, for one. I have heard that Atalanta's horse gave birth to a two-headed foal. Strange births are bad omens. They all started after Diana brought her man to the Island."

Penelope's eyes widened. "Is he back in the Capital?"

"No I think he is still with the Getai, Hera help him."

"I have heard that when Diana went to visit him," Penelope said breathlessly, eager to share her latest gossip. "She caught him in the act of ravishing two Getai sisters! That is why she returned to the Palace! I heard this from a sister who heard it from a sister who traveled to the North and heard it from one of their sisters. They even have the bruises to prove it."

"What rubbish!" Ismene said. "If that were true the Princess would display his head on the highest point in the Capital!"

"Well, that's what I heard," Penelope pouted. "Look the fog is beginning to clear!"

The fog was dissipating but very slowly, the faint sunlight poking holes through the mist. They both found that strange also.

"Has something happened to the ocean?" Penelope whispered. "What is that?"

Ismene looked closely, following her friend's outstretched finger. As the mist slowly cleared, she saw what she was looking at. In the ocean were hundreds of black dots. At first she thought it was some kind of optical illusion, or perhaps it was flotsam which would wash up on Themyscira's shores. Then the mist further cleared and her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

Black Ships, hundreds of them, filling the sea beyond their Island. Their black sails were emblazoned with a warped, five-pointed star. The sigil of Alar.

Ismene's shock lasted only a few seconds. She whirled around to Penelope who was staring with saucer-wide eyes at the invasion force.

"Sound the alarm!" When Penelope didn't move, Ismene slapped her hard. "Now!"

They both rushed for the great bell that would alert Themyscira to the imminent danger.

* * *

_The Alarian Fleet_

"Pickman's ghouls will be our shock troops," Carter was explaining to Bruce on the deck of his flagship. "They will be dropped down in the city and its immediate outskirts. Our strategy will be to secure the Capital first. Once we take their Capital, perhaps they will be demoralized enough to talk terms."

"You sound very sure of yourself." Bruce said but he was staring at the city of Themyscira. Even from a distance it was incredibly beautiful and impressive. He could see why Diana always spoke lovingly of it.

And now he was with a force that planned to destroy it.

"Oh, I think my battle plan is sound enough. You forget, I fought in the Great War."

"Let me go there first," Bruce urged. "I can end this before there's any bloodshed. If I can find Wonder Woman..."

"This is not Gotham City," Carter replied firmly. "They would kill you before you uttered a single word. No, we must do this my way."

Vizier Titus turned to Carter. "The mist is clearing. It must be now."

"Very good. Open the holds."

Batman turned as he heard the covers opening. Out from the bowels of the ship came dozens of the winged creatures Carter had called night-gaunts, which eerily resembled Bruce in his Batman suit, only their faceless heads revealed no expression and they had actual batlike wings. Carter had told him they were intelligent, to a degree, and were in alliance with the ghouls.

The ghouls, those awful-looking creatures, were riding the night-gaunts like steeds, or were carried in their long, rubbery arms. More and more poured out of the hold.

One of them came close to Carter and Bruce, the thing bent down to them from the night-gaunt's back.

"We'll be first into the breech," Pickman glibbered, drool dripping him his muzzle.

"You'll have surprise on your side, but be careful, old friend," Carter said. "They will fight back fiercely, just as the men from Leng did, remember?"

"Oh, but I have such a surprise for them!" Pickman laughed, a sickly glubbing sound. "When they rally for the counterattack, then that's when we'll drop 'em!"

Carter waved to Pickman as the night-gaunt flew off with him into the sky. Bruce felt that this whole episode was surreal, but he couldn't deny its reality. The sky was filled with their hideous forms, even as the Alarian ships approached the cliffs.

"How are we going to land there?" Bruce demanded. "There's no beachhead."

"We don't need one," Carter explained. An Alarian aide approached, in a black Napoleonic-looking uniform with its tall shako. Carter took off his white turban, and put on a helmet, one that resembled a ancient Roman officer's only without the plumes. The aide handed him his belt with its long scimitar. "We''ll be going in like the ghouls, only we'll be going directly into the heart of the City. Are you ready, cousin?"

"What? I don't-"

Batman gasped as he felt the tickish, rubbery hands of a night-gaunt grab him, and lift him high up into the air. He saw that Carter likewise had mounted a night-gaunt. Even more of them were flying out, perhaps thousands of them, and now each one carried an Alarian Guardsman, every man armed with a crossbow that looked as if it could have been manufactured by Glock.

"We'll soften them up with a bombardment," Carter's night-gaunt flew closer to Bruce's. "Watch now."

As Bruce watched in horror, the night-gaunts swooped in closer and he saw the Guardsmen, sitting cross-legged on the backs of the night-gaunts, aim their crossbows in the direction of the Capital.

"First rank! Fire!"

Bolts that gleamed like white phosphorous rounds flew like tracer rounds through the sky.

"Second rank! Fire!"

The night-gaunts wheeled and others took their place, each Alarian calmly aiming and shooting his weapon. More glowing, white-hot bolts flew through the sky like meteors and he saw them strike. Already flames and smoke began rising into the sky. Bruce's amplified hearing picked up the sounds of screams and cries.

"Third rank! Fire! Repeat, fire!"

"A few minutes of this and we will drop in on the Queen in her Palace, if she should still be there," Carter said as calmly as if chatting about poetry in his salon. "With luck, you will have your chance to interrogate Wonder Woman as to your friend's condition, if he is still alive."

A nimbus of fire appeared over the city. As he and the Alarians flew towards the burning city, Bruce wondered if he would even get a chance to see Diana, if she survived this horror.

* * *

**[AN: The invasion has begun and so has Diana's labor! What bad timing. Tune in next chapter for Justice League follies, battle scenes, birth scenes, and another cliffhanger! As always your reviews are appreciated!]**


	36. Chapter 28 - War

**Chapter 28 - War**

_Watchtower_

In the main conference room with its awesome panoramic view of Earth from space, the Martian Manhunter, in his true green-skinned form, sat across from three members of the original Justice League: Cyborg, Green Lantern, and the Flash. Joining them was a man dressed in green known as Green Arrow, his "significant other" Black Canary, and a black-haired woman in black spandex pants who called herself Zatanna.

The alien had just related the circumstances surrounding the death of the Trevor family. His chilling account left everyone looking (and feeling) disturbed and uneasy.

Barry Allen, who worked in a crime lab as his day job, had also seen the official reports, easily hacked by Vic on the Watchtower's computers.

"That's awful, what happened to his family," Flash said shakily. "But are you really certain that this is something out of the ordinary?"

"Even if it were not for the strange psychic residue I felt," J'onn J'onzz replied. "It is highly improbable that Steve Trevor would become homicidal towards his own family, given his prior positive relationship and psychological character."

"Um, this 'psychic residue' stuff," Black Canary spoke up, awkwardly. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I mean that I sensed the presence of a powerful entity in the house, or more precisely, that such an entity was present at the time of the killing."

"What kind of 'entity'?" Flash's eyes were wide.

"I could not determine this, but it was something powerful, alien, but of a kind I had never previously encountered, nor do I believe those here present have either. There was a strong yellowish aura about it..."

Hal Jordan sat up. "What? If Sinestro had something to do with this-"

"No, nothing of that sort," J'onzz mused. "Not that. It was something else. Not the power of fear, although I did feel something, it was…"

J'onzz fell silent.

"What?"

"I…don't know," For the first time the Manhunter sounded uncertain. "It was extremely debilitating. I felt as if I was sickening, and my will was draining away," He looked sharply at Hal. "I do not know if it would have the same effect on humans. Perhaps it would be worse. Perhaps it also affected Mr. Trevor."

Cyborg had become the de facto head of the original Justice League, and for someone so young he had proven an effective leader. In the absence of Superman, Batman, Aquaman and Wonder Woman he had had to take the wheel quickly.

"Hang on," Cyborg interrupted sharply. "Are you saying for sure that Trevor did this?"

J'onn paused a long moment. "I…believe so. But not the Trevor we know. Something changed him. Now, the police are unable to find him, and we cannot either. I cannot be certain if he is even on Earth."

Everyone at the table exchanged confused, uncertain looks.

"I can't believe Steve Trevor would do something like this," Cyborg insisted. "Could it be some enemy, something like Darkseid, one that we don't know about yet? Maybe Trevor was framed."

"And for what reason?" Flash asked.

"Cyborg," J'onzz said seriously. "I truly do hope it was the case that Trevor had a psychotic break and committed this heinous crime. Otherwise, we are facing a threat the likes we have not seen," He leaned over the table. "The crime itself, while dreadful, did not seem to be the purpose for the entity's presence. Whatever the reason for its attack, it is yet to be revealed."

"Wow," Oliver Queen muttered. "What've I gotten myself into?" Black Canary stepped on his foot underneath the table.

The conversation broke up into several different people talking all at once. She glanced aside to the young magician, who was looking down at the polished surface of the conference table. Dinah didn't really know the young lady, but wondered if she was usually this quiet.

"Zatanna, isn't it? I caught your show in Vegas. You should be on the Strip, not off it!"

The pale young woman nodded. "Thank you. Black Canary is your name, right?"

"Yeah, but call me Dinah," She shook the young girl's hand. "So, you do magic for real?"

Zatanna nodded. "There are two types of magic. The kind that the general public sees, like in Vegas, and the _other_ kind. That's when we put the _k_ on the end of the word. I can do both!"

She made a motion with her hands and suddenly they were filled with silver dimes. Dinah's eyes widened.

"Wow!"

Zatanna gestured for Dinah to hold out her hands, and she did so eagerly. She made another hard-to-follow motion and she saw she was holding a handful of multicolored Skittles instead.

"Oh!" Canary grinned. "I would have preferred money, but I'll take these!"

"If it were so easy to make money, I could live like Trump," Zatanna shrugged, but smiled. "Real magick is much more complicated."

"So," Canary shared the Skittles with her. "What do you think of all this? I mean, is it something…you could help with?"

During Martian Manhunter's talk, a memory had come to Zatanna, a very old one from when her father was still alive and she was a little girl. He'd died much too early, but he taught her so much, before the stroke claimed him.

_She'd been in her father's study, going through her father's books of magic. She didn't recall which book she'd picked up, or what it was about, only that when her father saw what she was reading, he'd taken the book from her quickly, despite her protests._

_"No, Zee," her father had told her, gently yet firmly. "Never those words. Those words were never meant to be used by human beings. They must never be spoken, either forwards or backwards."_

_"Then why do we have them, if we can't use them?" Zatanna was confused._

_"So when we hear them, we must stop them from being used, whatever the cost, with all our abilities. That is part of our reason for being. Always remember this, Zee. Promise me you will never use them!"_

_"I promise, Daddy!"_

"Maybe," Zatanna said slowly. "I need to know more though."

"So what're you girls talking about?" Arrow broke in, taking some Skittles.

"What we're gonna do about this mess." Black Canary replied.

"Are we going to do something then?" He looked surprised.

"Yes," She replied firmly. "We're going to Wayne Manor."

* * *

_Themyscira – The Palace_

After Philippus notified Cyanna of Diana's imminent condition, she'd then headed back to the Princess's rooms while the healer prepared her medicines. The birth might not happen for hours, or it could come quickly. Who could tell with the spawn of an alien demon? But after finding her bedchamber empty, and Diana and her attendant nowhere to be found, she knew she had to alert the Queen that Diana had fled. Philippus would have to send her women out to search for her. She found that she was not surprised by her onetime pupil's actions (some part of her even felt proud that she'd kept her wits about her). But before that, there was one more task she must accomplish.

Illythia was relaxing in her quarters, partaking of a sweet, slow-burning herb that grew near the eastern shores The intoxicating smoke gave the blonde Amazon a distinct feel of luxurious self-content. She barely noticed when the ebony woman stormed in.

"Illythia!" Philippus said harshly.

"Yes, what is it?"

Philippus thought her protégé was becoming too overfamiliar as of late, but there was no time to remedy that now.

"The Princess's labor has begun. It will not be long now."

"Has it now?" Illythia stood up and stretched. "The earth has not quaked yet. I suppose we are still secure."

"You remember what we discussed, do you not?"

"Of course," Illythia was now fully alert. "You would have me perform the deed now?"

Philippus nodded grimly. She opened her cloak and took out the long dagger with the black blade that Hippolyta had given her. She thrust it out, point towards Illythia, and the young woman's eyes widened.

"Then go to the cave. This blade is magicked, so it should slay even him. Bring me back his head and dispose of his body in the deepest pit you find there. Do not forget this weapon, we may need it again."

Illythia's pulse quickened. "I shall do as you command, my General!"

Philippus paused, and added in a softer voice. "Slay him swiftly, and as painlessly as possible. He has earned that, at least."

Philippus reversed the direction and handed the hilt to Illythia. She took it eagerly.

"What of the Queen?" Illythia couldn't help asking. "What of her word to Kal-el?"

"This is _my_ order and _I_ shall take the responsibility. I do this to preserve our island and Amazonia. Hippolyta will understand, as will the Princess…eventually."

Illythia nodded, her eyes glinting. "Of course they will, General," she said. "I am sure of it."

* * *

_Themyscira – Outside the City_

Through passageways known to a few of the senior Bodyguards, Selene led her Princess, supported by Lois and Vanessa, out of the Palace unseen and undetected. They emerged behind the Royal Stables and silently and swiftly the stalwart Amazon led them into the forests beyond the city, following an unmarked trail only she apparently could see.

"Where are we going?" Vanessa whispered.

"Berenike and I have a small hut in the forest which we use it as our hunting camp. We were going to spend some time there together after my watch," Selene added. "No one knows where it is but us."

"I hope it's not much further," Lois grumbled, her arm around Diana's thickened waist; she found herself in the unlikely position of supporting a superhero. She seemed unbelievably heavy.

"I'll make it," Diana said through gritted teeth. "The baby is taking its time, it seems."

"Why?" Lois said in an aside to her as they made their way through the heavy brush. "Why the hell are we doing this?"

"My baby, if it is a boy…the Amazons will…I thought you would know this by now, Lois," Diana winced as another contraction hit her. It felt like a punch from Darkseid. "You weren't…curious, about why there are…no boys… on Themyscira?"

Lois felt chilled. Would the Amazons really...? But with the horrific memories of the Iron Rite fresh in her mind, she thought, yeah, they really would.

"I have never seen such a thick fog before," Vanessa tried to see through the mist that had almost instantly descended down upon them and all across the forest floor. Fortunately, Selene knew the path like the back of her hand.

"It stinks of magick," Selene muttered. "Anyway, here we are. Let's get out of it."

They arrived at a small wooden shelter with a thatched roof, nearly invisible against the base of a small hill, and camouflaged against the surrounding rock and stone. Once inside, Selene lit some clay lamps while Lois and Vanessa carefully helped Diana onto the single bed in the corner, a simple wicker platform on which some ragged animal pelts were thrown.

Lois looked around in disgust. The place was extremely Spartan in its absence of comfort, or even basic necessities, she thought. There was a table next to the bed stained with what looked like dried blood, a couple of skinning knives on its surface. A pair of spears leaned against the corner, next to a dented shield, and a net. More pelts hung on the walls. The place smelled of dead animals and sour _yourte_. This was no place to bring a child into the world, Lois thought, even an Amazon kid.

Vanessa bent down to the small hearth, tried to get a fire going. "We'll need hot water, I know that much!"

"There's a stream nearby," Selene said. "I'll fetch some."

"Wait…Selene," Diana gasped, grasping the edge of the bed. Already the wood was splintering in her grasp. "I need you to go-go back to the Palace, fetch my… weapons…my lasso and…armor."

Selene did not hesitate. "As you command, Princess."

"I'll get the water," Vanessa said. "Lois, can you keep the fire going?"

"What?" Lois stared as Selene and Vanessa left. "Diana, what do you need all that for now?"

"Lois," Diana grunted, feeling the contractions coming on stronger. "I need them…I have to…once the baby is born, if it is a boy…" She gasped, rode the pain, and then when it was bearable, continued. "My mother will send others…to look for me…and the baby. They will…try to kill him."

"Over my dead body," Lois growled; suddenly she felt very defensive of Superman's baby, and why not? He was her friend.

But first, Diana had to have the baby. She suddenly realized she was all alone with a woman in labor. That was not a reassuring thought.

Lois tried to take Diana's hand but she flung it off.

"Don't!" Diana gasped. "I'll break all the bones in your hand! If I-" She scrunched her face, threw back her head and screamed.

Lois sighed. It was going to be a long, hard day.

* * *

_Themyscira – Towards the Cliff of the Western Gate_

lllythia traveled the path to the cave where she had imprisoned the Kryptonian, the magick-tempered sword on her belt. The fog that had come swiftly upon the island hampered her journey slightly, but she hardly thought twice the strange weather. Her mind was busy turning on other matters.

It should be easy with this powerful blade. One swift stroke, and the dog's head would be off his shoulders. She doubted even a creature of his powers could survive minus his head. But it seemed such a waste, Illythia thought. He was a handsome beast, if not the most cunning, but then again he was only a man. Perhaps she would have some fun with him before she dispatched him. He could be induced to beg for his life, perform for her even, if he thought his life would be spared. She smiled deliciously at the thought. Yes, why not enjoy him! There was no hurry; Clay would be in labor for awhile yet, and no one would be the wiser.

Afterwards, then either she or Philippus would take care of Clay's brat. Illythia wondered if it would not just be best to dispatch the child whether male or female. She'd known Clay since they were of the same age and training cohort. Always, Illythia had been suspicious of her - she'd always been different, not quite fitting in. Illythia always suspected she was not a true Amazon. The revelation of her true parentage only proved what a freak Clay really was. Surely such a one would bring down the gods' curse on the whole island. Now, with this ridiculous breaking of tradition – bringing in weak women from Man's World to play at being Amazons, getting impregnated by an alien creature – it only proved Clay's unworthiness to be heir to the throne of Themyscira.

Perhaps, Illythia considered thoughtfully, this blade should serve a dual purpose, to rid Themyscira of such unworthiness. Clay would never believe her son a stillborn, she would only cause trouble anyway. She would be doing the Amazon nation a favor. Yes, best to get rid of the entire problem then and ensure the throne would go to a more qualified candidate when the Queen died (perhaps, Illythia dared to think, that could even be hastened as well, the Queen's poor judgement regarding Clay demonstrating her failures). A candidate like Philippus…or even, possibly, why not, herself…

The fog was growing thicker as she approached the cave entrance, and once she thought she heard flapping sounds overhead, as if a massive flock of birds, or bats, were flying by. Then a noise, coming from ahead of the trail, interrupting Illythia's scheming thoughts. Then, another series of sounds, flapping and rustling, then absolute silence.

She frowned. Surely, there could be no one else out here, on the path to the cave?

"Who is there?" She challenged. "Reveal yourself!"

Nothing. But there _was_ something out there. Her trained senses told her she was not alone.

She couldn't imagine it could be Kal-el. There was no way he could break his chains. Could it be a harpy? Very rarely did they come this far to the coast, but it was possible. The last thing she needed was to deal with some stupid harpy. But the sounds did not come again, although Illythia strained to listen. Curse this fog! She could barely see more than a few feet in front of her. A foul smell reached her nostrils, and she wrinkled her face. Something must have died up ahead on the trail, perhaps a deed deer.

Impatient with waiting to get to Kal-el, she started forward. Soon she started to run, urged on by some strange premonition, but she did not take more than a few steps before she collided with something. Something that _moved _and smelled like a dead dog.

Illythia froze in horror. The thing before her was not a bear, or a harpy, but just as tall as a man, but it was no man although it stood on two legs like one, but its canine muzzle with dripping fangs proved it was nothing close to man-like, despite its sunken, humanlike eyes, which stared into Illythia's shocked ones. She had never seen this on the island before. What was it-?

Then the thing _spoke_ to her, but she barely heard it. More dark shapes materialized out of the fog behind it, and saw their glowing eyes.

"Got a good look at me?" said the thing that had once been the Bostonian artist Richard Upton Pickman. "I hope so, as it'll be the last thing you ever see."

Its arm - its foreleg - shot out, the thing's claws slicing through Illythia's throat, all the way back through to the spine. She didn't even have time to scream, as death flooded over her eyes and she collapsed to the ground, torrents of blood gushing from her severed neck, fountaining onto the ground.

The ghouls behind him _glibbered_ delightedly and flung themselves greedily on the dead Amazon. Soon, Pickman knew, there would be nothing left, not even the bones. That was no surprise - some hadn't eaten since they'd left Alar. Time for a brief snack before the big push.

He sniffed the air while his underlings tore at the Amazon's flesh and dejointed the body, passing choice pieces to each other. They offered Pickman a piece of ulna, which he accepted and stuck between his teeth, chewing thoughtfully.

Save for this one, he could detect no other Amazons about. Very good, so far, other than this one, they were still unseen on the island, but the fog would dissipate soon. He waved his foreleg, and the ghouls disappeared into the mist.

* * *

_Themyscira – The Capital_

As Selene headed back to the Palace, she was well-aware that Diana's disappearance would be discovered by now. Hers also. Philippus would have raised the alarm, and no doubt the other Bodyguards would be combing the Palace and the city for them. She would have to be careful, as she made her way back through the streets and into the Palace.

But before she could reach the entranceway by the Royal Stables, two Amazon Bodyguards suddenly appeared before her, Melita and Callista. Their swords were drawn.

"Selene," Callista said coldly. "Philippus is looking for you. Where is the Princess Diana?"

Selene didn't move, her hand resting on the pommel of her sword. She saw the others looking at it, then at her.

"Princess Diana is safe."

"Where?" Melita demanded.

"The Princess is _my_ sworn responsibility. _I_ protect her."

"Selene, we know why you spirited her away! How can you do this?" Callista demanded.

"I swore an oath to protect the Princess and I shall do that," Selene drew her _kopis_ sword. "Stand aside!"

The other Amazons braced themselves but before they could make another move there was a sharp whistling noise in the air and before Selene and Melita's startled eyes Callista fell, a glowing white-hot bolt of metal protruding on either side of her neck. Before her body even hit the ground it burst into flames.

"What is-?" Melita gasped.

Suddenly the air was filled with more of the deadly whizzing bolts which landed all around them. Screams echoed throughout the city as some of them struck Amazons. Then they heard the great bell that was their alarm for invasion.

_Bong Bong Bong Bong_

"We are under attack!" Melita screamed, disbelief clear in her voice. "How...?"

Selene rushed the Amazon, knocking her out of the way of a bolt that slammed into the side of the Stables, narrowly missing Melita's head. Immediately the Stables burst into flames.

"We must get the horses out!" Selene shouted. "Quickly!"

Melita and Selene ran into the Palace.

At the same time the night-gaunts carrying Carter, Titus, and Batman landed on the top of a small flat hill in the midst of the city, where it gave them an excellent overview of the action around them. It was the site of a small shrine to Aphrodite, and the irony was not lost on Bruce. Dozens of night-gaunts dropped down Alarian Guardsmen all around them, forming a protective cordon for what was becoming their own command HQ. Others hovered over them, still firing into the city.

As Bruce watched, a separate contingent of night-gaunts flew in the direction of the nearby Palace, and the sounds of fighting soon came from there. Bruce couldn't help but wonder if Diana was in there. He saw the Amazons below, dead or dying, the one still on their feet struggling to rescue wounded comrades, organize a resistance. Arrows flew in their direction but the night-gaunts easily zipped out of the way. Fire was spreading quickly throughout the beautiful city, igniting whatever was not made of stone. Black smoke billowed into the sky, obscuring the formations of night-gaunts.

Bruce looked around for any sign of Wonder Woman. He expected to see her in the air, fighting back, but there was no sign of her at all. Part of him realized this might not be a bad thing - if she saw him in the company of the invaders, he expected that her next logical reaction might be to stick his head on the end of her sword. He could hardly blame her if she did.

Carter alighted from his night-gaunt, Namash-Thah close beside him.

"The Amazons are taken totally by surprise, m'Lord," the walrus-like man told him. "But they are banding together to form a counterattack. There is resistance in the Palace itself."

Carter nodded. "That is to be expected. However, we have a good surprise prepared for them."

Bruce stared at them. "What now?"

Carter gestured below them. "You will see. This will eliminate any possibility that the Amazons can regain the initiative."

Bruce could only watch helplessly as the black-garbed Alarian Guardsmen began fortifying their location, and more and more of them landed in the city. Some of them were carrying something large, covered in dark tarpaulins, setting them down at the base of the hill. The shouts intensified around him. This could only end badly, no matter who had the initiative.

* * *

_Outskirts of the City_

Vanessa and Lois did their best to act as midwives while Diana moaned and cried, her body dripping with sweat. Definitely all thoughts of getting through this painlessly had vanished. The terrible cramping had seen to that. Now she could only hope that she would endure long enough to bring Clark's child into the world, and in the process not send Vanessa and Lois flying through the walls.

Lois herself was hoping she could get through this without fainting dead away. She was a journalist not a nurse. Still, this would be a helluva scoop - provided she could get through it!

"Keep breathing the way you are, Diana, you're doing fine," Lois said encouragingly, while Vanessa supported her back. The Amazon princess could only sob helplessly in response.

_Clark, where are you? I need you here with me...even if only to cut off your rhombos with my sword!_

Then that thought disappeared with another excruciating contraction, and all she could do was pant.

"Where the heck is Selene" Vanessa wondered. "She's been gone a long time."

Over the sounds of Diana's cries, they then heard the faint sound of a bell.

"What is that?" Lois asked.

Diana's eyes were wide in shock. "The alarm! That cannot be. That is only rung when-" Diana screamed, bit down on her lip. "When there are invaders on Themyscira!"

"Invaders?" Lois and Vanessa stared at each other in astonishment. "How is that possible?"

But the bell continued to sound for at least another minute, then it was abruptly silenced. Lois rushed to the door and opened it. In the distance they could hear screams and shouting. She thought she caught a glimpse of giant batlike things flying overhead.

"What the _hell_ are those?"

Vanessa stared at her. "What are you talking about? What do you see?"

The fog had dissipated slightly and Lois thought she could see plumes of smoke rising into the air.

"The city!" Lois exclaimed. "I can see fire! What the hell?"

The sounds coming from the Capital grew louder, and they were unmistakably sounds of battle. A thunderous _humming_ sound echoed several times. Every time it did, the cries grew louder.

"The Palace!" Diana cried out in disbelief and horror. "My...my mother! My sisters! I need to-"

Diana actually tried to rise but at this point she was so weakened even little Vanessa Kapatelis could hold her back.

"You can't do anything for them," Vanessa said, uncharacteristically somber. Diana glanced back at her and it was as if they shared the same, telepathic thought.

_DOOM_ was coming to Themyscira.

And Diana was helpless to prevent it.

"You must push now," Vanessa urged. "Focus on the baby, not on...on whatever's happening out there. Your baby has to be born above all!"

Lois forced herself to turn away from whatever was happening outside the hut, and rushed back to Diana, tried not to faint at what she saw between her spread and trembling legs. "Okay, let's do this, Diana! Only a little bit more!"

She screamed again. The pain was too much to bear!

_"KAL!_"

* * *

Far below the ground, near the ocean, a weakened, unconscious Clark Kent lay against the wet stone. He'd managed to get the leather hood off his head by scraping his face against the stone, but even his heat vision and chill-breath could not break his manacles instantly. They were pitted and scarred, but had not broken, just as Illythia had claimed they would not, would not even come free from the rock. They still held his chafed, bloodied limbs fast, and without the direct sunlight, he was growing progressively, if slowly weaker. Still, he'd conserved every bit of strength he had, drinking the drops of moisture that fell from the rock, scrabbling for insects even. He still held out hope he could get free, or that Diana would discover what happened...

Diana...

A voice, faint and far, calling his name.

His eyelids flickered, and slowly opened. Still darkness all around him. But he'd heard his name, he was sure of it. Diana's voice, calling out.

"Diana?" he whispered in a cracked, hoarse voice. "Where...?"

(_Kal!_)

Diana's voice, in agony, so imperceptible an ordinary human could not hear it, but he knew it was her. It could not be a hallucination caused by his condition. Diana was calling out, and he was stuck here in this damned pit.

"Diana!" Clark cried out, but in vain. In blind madness he yanked at his chains, but they still refused to give. His Diana needed him, perhaps she was even already in childbirth, and he was trapped like an animal, more helpless than any powerless human. Tears of grief and fury formed and dropped from his eyes.

_"DIANA!"_

* * *

Above ground and much closer than the Cliff of the Western Gate, something else heard Diana's cry.

It paused on its two legs, and sniffed the air curiously. It was one of the pickets of Pickman's advance guard.

So far it had not seen any of the Amazons, but that might change now. At last, perhaps it would find something interesting to do! This job so far was quite dull, when it preferred to be burrowing beneath a charnel ground, seeking out rare morsels.

It sniffed again, and licked its muzzle. Yes, a quite distinct smell, one which was very familiar to it. The smell of fresh blood. A delicious scent, albeit non-necrotic. It came from the direction of the cry it'd heard. Perhaps this was worth investigating, yes, it might be worth a diversion.

It loped off towards the scent, and disappeared into the brush.

* * *

**[AN: The Capital has fallen (gasp!) but at least that beyotch Illythia is dead. Couldn't happen to a nicer person. Uh oh, Diana might have some company soon!**

**A shorter chapter here. I will probably finish up this story in shorter, random bursts since I wasn't able to finish before school starts, but it will get done!**

**Next up: The newer members of the Justice League get involved, with interesting results. DOOM comes to Themyscira!**

**As always, please review!]**

**[Oh yeah and if you want to join the R.U. Pickman Fan Club don't forget to read the short story "Pickman's Model" by Lovecraft, or watch the old 1970s Rod Serling "Night Gallery" adaptation of it. He is a CREEPY guy! ]**


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